A Call
by yoshi09
Summary: Dhr Post Hogwarts. Dark wizard catching is harder than ever! Hermione Granger is an Auror who's put to the test when she recieves a new operation that will rid all dark wizardry in one blow. Only one catch: Sleeping with Draco Malfoy.
1. A Call

Disclaimer: I don't even need this here. I just put it here because it looks cool and makes me feel important /puffs out chest/ All the good writers put disclaimers. /hopeful eyes/ okay okay… on with the story! ---end rant—

"A call?" asked Hermione in disbelief.

"Yes, ma'am. A phone call."

"Oh bloody hell, you can't be serious?"

Nobody used the phone anymore… well… in the wizarding world, no one used the phone. Who would call her now? At bloody 12:32am? Especially in the Auror office?

"I'm very sure, ma'am. The "conjured phone" in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office that had just been recently transferred from Department of Magical Accident and Catastrophes, just rang. The messenger was uproarious and caused quite a scene when he didn't know what to do with it. I found him sitting on it to 'muffle the sound'…. He was afraid it was a malfunction of some sort and-"

"Who was it?" Hermione cut in impatiently. It was late, she was tired, and she had a bed waiting to be lain in.

"It was Arnold Peasegood; I have no idea what he'd be doing, as in Obliviator, personally delivering such an absurd muggle arti-"

"No, who was asking for me, you dolt?"

"Oh, well we didn't get the time to ask, Miss Granger-"

"Oh for the love of all that is good and spawns from Merlin, just give me the phone!"

He nodded quickly, and just as efficiently disappeared for about three seconds to retrieve a black box with numbers on it, it looked strangely familiar, yet foreign. She hadn't seen a telephone for ages.

"Here you go."

"All right, thanks," she sighed, "Sorry Ernie. I mean, for yelling at you. It's late-"

"No need for apologies, I understand." And Ernie dismissed himself without further ado.

She sighed, and looked at the little black box. Hermione Granger suddenly felt old. It seemed she was only 13… or was it 14? That she used one of these contraptions, she couldn't quite remember for what though- something to do with Harry… All of a sudden a small muffled voice interrupted her thoughts. It almost scared her. Then she remembered, of course, the phone! She quickly took the receiver in her left hand, holding it to her ear and heard the voice much clearer now,

"Hello? Hello?" The male voice asked.  
"Hi." Hermione promptly replied, "May I he-"

"HEEERRRMMMIIIOOONNNEEEEE!" The voice screamed back.

What the hell? For a few ear-splitting seconds of the voice screeching that gave a slight ringing to her drums, she sat stunned. Then she realized who it was. The voice wasn't crying for help, but rather crying with excitement.

"My God," she said astonished, using the English Muggle term instead of Merlin, "Harry Potter."

"'Mione!" Came the response.

Hermione didn't know whether to be more surprised than angry. Then settled with something in between, "You called at 12:35? AM nonetheless?"

"Ahahaha! Yes, I'm sorry about that, 'Mione. It's 4pm over here in Los Angeles, and I just got to the hotel… I'm just so happy to hear you're voice again! You have no idea how bloody lonely it is in the Muggle world with Pansy and-"

"You're with Pansy?" Hermione said a little too rudely.

"Yeah, Department of Magical Games and Sports sent her with me, we're covering the Muggle game of basketball this season, remember? Lavender came too, they figured we should bring someone who's good at talking."

Hermione's mouth twitched upwards in a smile, "Okay, I'm sorry- Harry, but how the hell did you get this number?"

Harry started laughing again, "Oh, 'Mione, it's rather complicated, really."

"Long story?"

"Very."  
"Skip it then," she said with a chuckle, brushing a hand through messy curls, gradually causing her hand to get stuck in it, "Oh brilliant," she muttered, trying to wrestle her hand back out of her snares that people called curls.

"What happened, 'Mione?"

"Nothing- nothing…." She continued muttering to herself though '_Brilliant… brilliant…'_ "So how was your trip?"

"Funny story, Herm." God, did she hate that nick name, but she didn't bother correcting him, her hand was still stuck in more important matters, literally. Harry continued talking, "You know how we're supposed to apparate to Diagon Alley and use the Floo Network?"

"Thought you were supposed to use the Floo down on the main floor of the Ministry…?"

"Yeah, well that would have been more logical, but you know me, I'm not really skilled in that area of expertise, like some." Harry replied pointedly which rewarded him with a smile he couldn't see from Hermione as he continued talking, "You heard there was something wrong with the Floo network lately, something about messing with the shipments of Floo dust and how people tampered with it so it twists you're words around… I didn't know it hadn't affected the Ministry, so I apparated instead."

"Okay, well makes sense too, I suppose." Hermione almost got her hand out of her head, but of course it wouldn't come easily, her hand was taking half her hair with it, "Ouch."

"Are you sure you're fine, 'Mione?"

"My hair. Got my hand- kind of… stuck. Forgot I didn't use a Detanglement spell on it this morning… sort of got some immunity to it, apparently."

Harry was struck with an image of Hermione have a fist fight with her hair, and laughed, "And you're supposed to be the logical one."

"Shut up, or I'll hang up." She gritted.

"All right, all right… I have 10 minutes left anyway."

"Okay, so you apparated instead…?" Hermione urged, trying to divert the subject from her warring hair.

"Oh yes, I apparated and ended up in Ron's bed. Wait! Before you ask how I apparated there, I have to tell you what Ron was doing." Harry started to chuckle, and Hermione waited patiently for him to calm down. "Hahaha… All right, all right… well, Ron was… er-hem… _very_ busy. And he didn't like it much when I intruded in such _personal_ moments. Can you guess what he was doing?" Harry was snickering.

Now, Hermione has several ideas of what Ron was doing judging from the choice of diction and tone Harry was using, and all ideas were quite revolting. Several images flashed through her head, one image in particular stopped in her head. 'Ron wouldn't where a tutu, would he?' she thought. 'Wait, Harry wouldn't hint at that, he'd just say it. Ronald was probably having a jolly good time in his nether regions.' Hermione concluded, although with a discomforting wrinkle of her nose.

"What?" Harry yelled.

"Huh?" asked Hermione, alarmed. There were some shuffles on the other line, a hand probably covering the mouth piece that Harry was talking in, and a few voices talking rapidly. A few moments later, Harry was back.

"Oh sorry, 'Mione, Pansy needed a quarter or something, and Lavender wanted to use the phone to call some television ad… something about a metal detector so she could run it over your head and see how many treasures she can find. ('Haha, very funny, Harry. No Hermione, it was some new make up product, I swear.' Hermione heard Lavender yell from the other side of their hotel room) Anyway, guessed yet?"

"First of all, my hand is out of my hair." (No, it wasn't) "And no, I don't think I want to guess."

"Well fine, I won't force you. Ron was… get ready for it Hermione," he snickered again, "He was kissing a picture of Pansy! Of all bloody people, Pansy! Ahahahaha!"

Hermione didn't know whether to be relieved or disgruntled. Harry on the other hand didn't know what to think about from her silence. He personally thought it was hilarious.

"Why, 'Mione?" he said mischievously, "What were you thinking?"

"Ew, nothing." She said a little too quickly.

"Right."

Hermione could almost hear him smirking.

"What might you be suggesting, Harry? That I'm thinking about Ron in a tutu?"

"Mm. Never mind." Harry sounded disappointed.

"What? What am I supposed to be thinking?" Hermione inquired innocently.

"I keep forgetting, Virgin Hermione."

Hermione squinted her eyes and said with a poisonous malice, "Harry, I'm not the virgin, Ginerva is."

"Of course, you slept with Krum during 6th year."

"Shut up, Harry, Lavender might hear."

"Oh please, she's too busy watching the telly or messing with her hair. ('What

was that?' yelled Lavender over the phone, 'Viktor Krum and Hermione had sex?') No Lavender, I said Viktor's gay and enjoys anal sex! ('You don't say!') Anyway, who's Ginerva?"

"Ginny."

"Oh, right. Keep getting you two mixed up. Both of you are equally prudish."

"That's it. Good bye, Harry."

"Wait, haha, wait 'Mione. Sorry, it's just I hadn't talked with wizard civilization in awhi-"

"What about Lavender and Pa… yeah, true, Pansy and Lavender aren't really considered civilization, are they?"

"Right."

"So how'd you apparate to Ronnie's house?"

"Well, funny thing. I was thinking about the Diagon Alley's boy's bathrooms while I apparated, because that's what you're supposed to do, think of the place you need to apparate and have a clear vision. Well Pansy comes along right when I started clearing my head, and right before I started to disappear she asks me, 'Harry, have you seen my orange thong?' and then well, for some reason a picture of Ron's orange bed appeared and before I could stop it POP"

"You think of Ron's bed when you think of orange thongs? I don't know… sounds sort of…"

"Gay?" Harry finished with a smirk, "Nah, I found Ron had a collection of girl thongs in his closet. ('Maybe Ron and Krum should hook up?' suggested Lavender sincerely.) Lavender, if you want in on the conversation, there's another phone by the stand over there," Harry replied with annoyance.

"Why does he have thongs in his closet? Wait- don't answer that question."

"'Mione!" Said Harry with such astonishment that Hermione nearly jumped, "You forgot, he was kissing," he lowered his voice, "a poster-sized picture of Pansy."

"Doesn't that still make him gay?"

Harry sighed, "'Mione. Be nice."

"You're the one invading people's private lives, Harry." Hermione stretched her fingers that were still entangled in her hair, "Besides," she continued, "There is nothing wrong with Ron being gay."

"'Mione."

"Yes?"

"You forget that Lavender is queen of gossip next to Parvati. If this let's loose you'll be getting a phone call from Ron and I'm sure he'll find a way to curse you through the phone." Harry glowered, his voice low.

"So he is, then?"

"NO! I'm just saying making false accusations isn't the brightest of things, Herm!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at the nickname he called her and retorted lightly, "Harry, you're preaching me on how bright I am."

There was a pause at the other end of the line, "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Haha, sorry Herm."

"Could you stop calling me Herm? It sounds like hermaphrodite."

"Oh, of course. You should have told me it was bothering you. ('What's bothering her? She made Krum gay huh? I knew she was a lousy lover.') Lavender, she could hear you. ('Oh. Hermione, dear, it was a joke!') Lavender, go do something else… like not listen to my conversation."

Hermione shook her head lightly, chiding the old Gryffindor friends then just remembered and said quickly, "Where's Pansy?"

"Outside, vending machine I think." (Slight pause as Hermione waits for Harry to think of what she's thinking) "Oh no."

"Yeah, she's been gone for awhile."

"Right, catch you later on then, 'Mione." Hermione smiled at the new nickname and Harry continued, "I have to make sure Pansy knows which slot to put the quarter in. See you! ('Bye Hermione!')"

Hermione waited for the receiver to 'click' at the other end and then followed suit. She then took out her wand from her wrist pocket, a pocket she customized so the wand would always be in accessible and east to get to when she called to it at her will, and sighed. Hermione always used her right hand for spells except one time during 7th year when Ron "accidentally" dropped Hogwarts: A History onto her right arm, and she was forced to use her left arm for two weeks because Madam Pomfrey was off vacationing in Romania and the substitute witch on duty didn't know the difference between Swelling Solution and Wartcap Powder, and Professor Snape had suggested a firey concoction that looked like it would burn a hole through Hermione's stomach and send her to hell before it fixed her arm, so she used her left arm for spells, and that didn't work out too well.

Scrunching her eyes in determination she raised the Vine Wood and Dragon Heartstring wand towards her hair and said a bit high pitched, "_Incendio_."

All of a sudden, her hair seemed to have formed a shield of some kind, or a barrier that was bluish-red and glowing. She could feel her arm stuck in her hair still, so it just seemed to be some minor default. She'll just make the shield go away.

Waving her wand a little with a swish and flick, she said clearer, "_Finite Incantatum_." Only to have a huge burst of energy bounce off the shield and blast a wall opposite her seat.

"AHHHHH!"

Hermione closed her eyes tightly as she heard several spells of _Reparo_ and "are you all right?" from the other side of the hall.

"S-Sorry, Neville!" yelled Hermione, "I'll pay for whatever I broke."

"No harm done, Miss Granger! Just a minor concussion for Ron Tywhither, a few broken ribs on two house elves, and my office is completely on fire! Don't worry about it!" her fellow Auror agent, Neville Longbottom, yelled cheerfully.

"MISS GRANGER!" A voice yelled from the hallway, Hermione could see from err… what used to be her door but was now a huge gaping hole, a few men in white suits with the symbol of St. Mungo's Hospital on their sleeve rush by with a cot between them, followed by two reporters, and then a very enraged Rodwood Cease, the head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and fellow graduate from Hogwarts (he was in Hufflepuff), who stopped right in front of her desk.

"Yes, Mr. Cease?" Hermione said timidly.

"There is not one moment of rest in this blasted place, is there?"

"No, Sir." Hermione replied calmly, trying to look as serious as possible with a red and blue bubble around her head.

"We were having a tour of the ministry for the local papers about how everything is under control, and you just _had_ to blast a hole through the wall while we were walking down the Auror corridors? Now instead of the reporters reporting about how wonderful it is here, they're reporting how we encourage homicide and explode things to oblivion! Thank goodness St. Mungo's doctors from the main floor downstairs heard the blast and apparated as soon as they did. I'd expect this from my department, but not the Magical Law Enforcement!"

Hermione nodded, "There's always a chance to obliviate them," she suggested.

Rodwood stared her down for a moment, and then shook his head, "Figures. Aurors know only how to destroy, this is appropriate. I'll just tell him we're just having another drill…" He looked at her again, and asked, "And what, by the beard of Merlin, is that around your head?"

"I don't know."

"It looks like a _Protego_."

"I figured it was, after my _Finite Incantatum_ bounced off my head…" Rodwood looked confused but Hermione continued, "I swear I said _Incendio_… but I suppose since _Protego_ rhymed with _Incendio_ my want might have misinterpreted it…"

"You aimed a fire curse at your HAIR?"

"Well, my hand couldn't get out of the new form of Devil's Snare," she pointed at her hair, "and my left arm's not good with spells, Sir." Hermione tried to explain.

"That explains why your wand got confused. I swear, Hermione, you really should come with a warning label: 'May commit genocide within 50 feet at random.'"

"I appreciate the compliment," retorted Hermione. ("It wasn't a compliment." Rodwood muttered) "But, I really have to go see my head of department at the moment, and my hand's sort of stuck, and there's an office next to me set aflame, and you're here preaching me about fire curses and warning labels. So…" Hermione got up, and swung a cloak about her shoulders with her free left arm, "If you excuse me, I'll have to check on my office mates for a moment."

"Wait a tad."

Hermione sighed and turned to face the former Hufflepuff, "Look, Rodwood, I know I ruined your day, but can't I get a raincheck on the lectures? I'll promise to take notes," Hermione's voice was soft.

Rodwood scratched his head, "Actually, I planned on recommending you use scissors. My mum, who's half muggle, suggested that if magic doesn't work, the manual way always does."

Hermione smiled tiredly, "Thank you."

"Anytime. May I also suggest that you remain away from magic until you wand arm works properly?"

The young witch nodded and then walked back to her desk and fumbled in her desk drawer for a pair of old scissors she had since 6th grade and kept as a keepsake. She put the scissors up to her hair and said with a vengeance, "For England," and clipped off the bushy mass holding her hand captive ceremoniously through the shielding. Hermione could have sworn she heard her hair whimper in protest. Her hair now looked uneven but her hand was free and the _Protego _she had accidenly casted now was gone. Hermione carefully picked up the trimmed snarls and planned to burn them in the fire that they caused, but had a better idea and put them in Rodwood Cease's hand.

"You're my witness."

Rodwood looked confused, "What am I supposed to do with them?" He inspected Hermione's hair suspiciously, as if it might blow up.

Hermione waved her hand dismissively, "Plant them or something. I'm sure they'll grow into something spectacular."

She carefully stepped over some fallen debris as she rolled her shoulder and stretched her now freed right arm. It seemed that the doctors already used a portkey back to the hospital because only two reporters and a very aggravated and provoked looking attractive young man stood in the middle of the damaged and recently extinguished room.

"Yes, yes, it's wonderful you work for Luna Lovegood from _The Quibbler_, and I know we graduated together, but my office is in really ill repair and I'd rather not comment on how I feel about that." The tall, athletic, fellow Auror agent of Hermione's looked very torn on whether to hex the correspondents or kill them and end his torture.

The reporters seemed to overlook his red bloodshot eyes, twitching fingers, and bared teeth as they continued enthusiastically,

"That is simply excellent, Mr. Longbottom, but how does that make you feel?"

"I have my office in complete disarray, a best friend in the hospital, I am responsible for injuries on two house elves, its 1am in the morning, my wife is in labor, and I nearly died. And yet, reporters have the nerve to ask me in the most pleasant of voices about how I feel about it all. HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL?"

The reporters looked unphased, "Oh, can you do that again? Except this time a bit slower, my camera didn't get the spittle flying from your lip."

Before Neville could successfully perform _Crucio_ on the two unsuspecting citizens, Hermione gracefully intervened.

"Actually, this was a drill. The Magical Law Enforcement holds it once every year." Hermione said in know-it-all air, trying to find a fake story to give the reporters and lead them to safety before Neville showed them physically how he felt.

"You do/We do?" said the reporters and Neville said together.

"Yes, Neville, you're new so you wouldn't know."

"What in the bloody Hell are you talking about, Hermione? I've been working here for three years-"

"Of course, Neville's been working here three months!" Hermione chuckled, and clapped Neville on the back. "The young chap, gets worked up about everything."

The reporters nodded knowingly, "We witnessed that."

Neville looked fidgety, as if it took every ounce of willpower to not show them how "worked up" he could be.

"What exactly is this drill for?" the younger one of the two asked.

"Well, it's to make sure our emergency reflex is okay in case a real accident happens. As you saw, St. Mungo's was immediately on the scene." Hermione said smoothly.

"I see."

"So you're not saying an invisible Snorklak stampeded through here?" the older and balding correspondents in blue plush robes inquired.

Hermione blinked at him.

The older reporter gestured feebly about the room, "It's very obvious. Snorklaks can cause major destruction and leaves a blazing fire in their wake. You can also tell because there's a Snorklak footprint right here." The man pointed knowingly at what seemed to be a crushed wastebasket that a pillar had unceremoniously landed on but had already rolled off of, leaving the wastebasket with a huge crushed imprint of where the pillar was moments before. The younger correspondent gasped at the finding and immediately started taking pictures.

Hermione turned to Neville, who's brown bangs fell messily over his eyes from the sudden shot of stress. "Can people really be that daft?" she asked.

Neville had already started taking his wand out, "So when can we obliviate them," he whispered eagerly.

"No, no, we avoid obliviating when we can." Hermione replied, feeling slightly nauseated at how much the camera flashed.

"Excellent, I planned on killing them too." Neville licked his lips with an almost crazed anticipation.

"Not what I had in mind." Hermione weakly retorted. Then she whistled (something she was very proud of learning since she shrunk her teeth), getting the overly excited propaganda's attention, "That is not a Snorklak footprint." She said, annoyed, "The pillar obviously fell," she pointed at the marble pillar she destroyed earlier, "and rolled off the wastebasket. Snorklaks do not exist anyway, it has already been proven by scientists from nine countries."

The two reporters looked at each other then immediately started laughing,

"She thinks Snorklaks don't exist!" the younger one said in disbelief, "How daft can people be?" and their laughing grew louder.

"Yeah, let's obliviate them." Hermione said lowly.

"But-" Neville started protesting.

"No, they just insulted 9 of the most prestigious scientists, me, and books in one breath. Anyone who could do that is asking to be obliviated."

"I still say we kill them," Neville grumbled.

The last thing the two reporters heard was "_Obliviate_!" and a bright flash engulfed their vision.

-- --

Hermione entered the Auror's head office a little past 1:15am later that night only to be greeted by a camera flash.

"Bloody hell." Hermione muttered, rubbing her eyes at the bright light, "First the reporters, now you."

Nathan Glash, Head of Auror Headquarters, smiled broadly at her, "Sorry, Miss Granger. You're always so prompt and for once you're lately I couldn't resist to take a picture of such a rare moment. I'd rather have my whole department blown to oblivion and burnt down than miss a moment like this!"

"Believe me, it already has." Hermione mumbled.

"Excuse me?"

"Anyway! You called for me earlier." The bushy-haired woman said, smoother diverting the topic.

"Ah yes! I have a new op set up for you!"

"Oh, a mission?" said Hermione with surprise, and immediately conjured two mugs of coffee and a plate biscuits and sat down across from her boss.

"Yes, well make yourself at home." He said, rolling his eyes, "This one is very important. Now listen carefully. You and I both know how much this department is going downhill. Since your brother, Harry Potter, destroyed he-who-is-no-longer-living, many dark wizards are all disappearing. There's no stopping it, we've already lost even though we won. Aurors are nearly extinct now."

"But-"

"No protests. You know it's true. I figured, if we're going down, we're going to have to take all the dark wizards with us. You catch my drift?"

"Skip the small talk, Nathan."

"Ah, always m'gel, getting straight to business and skipping the foreplay."

Hermione sipped her coffee as if she didn't hear him.

"I have a proposition. It requires time, effort, determination, talent, and challenges both your morality and sanity."

"Done."

"You didn't hear what it was."

"I told you," said Hermione, setting her coffee down, "It's done."

"Hermione, you realize you're now eternally bound to this mission…" he coughed, "Until you finish it."

"Well, you apparently believe I can do the operation, so I'll do it."

"You're the only one who can do it." He muttered, but Hermione didn't hear him.

"So what is it this time? Do I have to kill a few people? Ruin someone's life, hex someone until they're mentally and physically insane?" she asked casually, leaning comfortably in the lounge chair.

"Slightly more complicated than that," replied Nathan as if he was putting a lot of thought into it.

"Okay, so what am I in for?"

"You have to sleep with the dark wizard."

Hermione blinked.

"Okay… I suppose I kill him afterwards. It's not too bad to give someone a night in Heaven before giving them an eternity in hell." Hermione nodded in deep thought, "So which dark wizard is it? Nott? Mullicent? I was never fond of sleeping with another woman, but I guess this could be an exception… How about Crabbe or Goyle? But I heard they were horrible clumsy in the bedroom…"

Nathan had cast _Protego_ as well as a few other shields around choice furniture and about the walls as well as a _Silencio _while she was speaking.

"What are you doing?" inquired Hermione.

Nathan surveyed the room approvingly before saying in a perfectly calm voice, "Actually, Hermione," he said in a reasoning tone, "I said the dark wizard not a dark wizard."

"Voldemort already is dead."

Nathan didn't know whether or not he cringed at the name or cringed because of what he said next. "He-who-is-no-longer-living was the evil wizard. The dark wizard… is Draco Malfoy."

Hermione blinked. "You're not serious are you?"

Somewhere in a hotel in Los Angeles, California, Harry Potter, Lavender Brown, and Pansy Parkinson heard a voice.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

Pansy looked up towards the east in alarm from watching the television, Lavender stopped applying her make up and followed Pansy's example, and Harry ran out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist.

"Was that Hermione, just now?" They asked together.

Back in England, Hermione surged so much power through her wand it had snapped in half, but luckily the killing curse didn't work since she didn't the swish flick of the incantation. But a deafening blast erupted and white light practically repainted the headquarters. When the smoke cleared, the room was still intact but Hermione has pounced on Nathan, and even the _Protego_ he cast wasn't meant to shield against the wrath or Hermione Granger,

"You toad! You spawn of Professor Snape! You conniving, evil, malicious, Snorklak! Bat Bogey Hex, _Incendio, Crucio, Imperio, AVADA KEDAVRA_!" Of course none of these spells worked from the now snapped wand, the wand just sort of sparked.

"Her-Her- Hermione!" Nathan managed through her cat-clawing and hair pulling.

"DIE!"

"_Petrificus Totallus_!" Immediately, Hermione became as straight as a board. But her eyes glared so hard that Nathan jumped back.

"Merlin." Nathan started a few minutes later after Hermione stopped glaring, "Even with _Silencio_, I swear they heard your yelling in Africa." He sipped some coffee that Hermione conjured moments before, to 'calm his nerves' before continuing, "Accio Hermione's wand," as soon as he finished his sentence, the top half of what was remnant of Hermione's wand flew into his hand. "Err… Accio whatever-is-left-of-Hermione's-wand!" the other half flew into his hand as well. "Bind." he said to the Vinewood Dragonstring turned weapon just in case Hermione could summon her wand back with her eyes.

"Now," he began, "If I release you, will you not try to claw me to death, or attack me with any attempt to kill or hurt me?"

Hermione just stared.

"Blink once if that's a yes."

Hermione glowered.

"Oh, come on Hermione, stop being so stubborn!"

After a few split seconds she finally obliged and blinked once.

"_Finite Incantatum_!" Before Hermione could open her mouth she heard, "Bind hands and legs!" and suddenly she felt her hands being cuffed together as well as her legs, then a _Wingardium Leviosa_ gently seated her in the chair she previously sat in.

"It's a precaution, Hermione. After that stunt you pulled, I'm not too fond of seeing it again." And he renewed all the shields around the room.

"You have the nerve," she began angrily, "to ask me to sleep with the little ferret?"

"Well, Hermione, let me explain."

"Couldn't you yet Parkinson to do it? Or Harry?" Hermione seemed to be counting to 10 over and over in her head in a poor attempt to calm herself.

"One, Pansy and Malfoy are best friends, and from what I hear, both pale at the thought when someone asks if they're a couple." Before Hermione could protest, Nathan continued, "Two, this is a Draco/Hermione fanfiction not a Draco/Harry, and as much as we love to entertain that couple, Draco would more likely hex Harry if he so much as enters his room."

Hermione glared.

"Don't glare at me, my penname isn't yoshi09."

"I don't care what your penname is. But if you don't get me out of this, you'll be penning down your will."

"Hermione," Nathan said reasonably, "Even if I do die, you'll still be bound to the mission."

She replied angrily from her seat across from Nathan, "I might as well commit suicide."

"Then you'll wander the lands as an Auror ghost, because the mission follows you after death until you complete it, and from what I know, it's hard to carry a child when dead."

"WHAT? You want me to breed more of the Malfoy ferret kind?" Nathan dodged her tackle easily (she was bound by cuffs on both arms and legs after all) and she landed in a jumbled heap behind his desk. Another _Wingardium Leviosa_ sent her back into the chair

"Okay, look, I know you aren't very happy right now-"

"Lucky guess." She gritted.

"But please hear the rest of the mission."

"Fine."

"And don't try to input your thought, because you'll have to do this anyway."

Hermione nodded trying to breathe in a calm, easy rhythm.

"We know for sure that Draco M. Malfoy is the last supremely influential Dark Wizard. He has the money, connections, the looks… God damn it he can run a mafia. So, I've compiled through unrelenting determination an op that would potentially take all dark magic off the shelves." He paused to drink a spot more of coffee and to clear his throat, "If you sleep with Malfoy and get pregnant with his child it'll do four things. 1) Force Malfoy to stay with you, which means a convert to the light side 2) Tell all dark wizards as a reassurance to follow suit 3) Get you close enough to Draco Malfoy to compile a personal dark wizard roster so any remaining more defiant of his minions can be tracked down and brought to justice and 4) Assure your safety because Malfoy would never kill and heir. No matter who's carrying it."

Hermione muttered something about shoving her broken wand up his buttock, but Nathan ignored it.

"Killing him isn't an option, it'll just cause more chaos. I also didn't want Pansy doing it because she's more likely to join Malfoy in his not so friendly charades than convert him, and all other girls I considered were either too frightened, easily swayed, or too enthralled by him. I realize how much you hate him, but you were the only girl I knew who took duty so seriously, and more likely to get the job done."

"So you chose me because I 'get the job done'? Did you consider he absolutely hates me, is purely bred on prejudiced opinions, and basks in darkness and the lap of luxury making him almost impossible to get too?" Hermione finally started thinking logically once more.

"Yes, yes, I considered them."

"Do you also forget he happens to have a strange fetish for torturing muggleborns?"

"I like to think that as a minor setback, 'Mione."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"And what am I to do about these minor setbacks, hm?"

"I don't know actually. That's why I gave you the op, I'm sure you'll figure something out." And before Hermione could stop him, Nathan apparated with a pop.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: yay I'm done with the first chapter! I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as I've enjoyed writing it. I'm soooo psyched aboutHarry Potter and the Halfblood Prince coming out today at midnight! I doubt I'll be able to update this story anytime soon courtesy of the book, but I just wanted to put the chapter up since I've been meaning to for sooo long. Besides, if I updated, no one would review since everyone's busy reading HP VI. So I'll update when I'm done reading. /cheers/

Side notes

First of all, before you guys start correcting me when Nathan Glash called Harry Potter Hermione's brother, or maybe how the characters seem a bit out of… err… character, I want to clear that up.

One, Hermione and Harry I've always looked at as being really close best friends, the closest you can be without being blood related. So, I purposely made it clear that in this fic there is no chemistry between them, and Nathan called HP Hermione's brother because it's pretty much a little side joke that Nathan, Hermione, and Harry have together. So that was _intended_.

Two, I figured that as you grow older, you meet lots of people, who potentially influence you're life. SO… Hermione and Harry can't stay teenagers forever, and therefore change a tinge… /sob/

Three, I also thought that since Voldemort is gone, and he was the supreme ruler of the dark wizards, that many of his minions either A) committed suicide B) started to (try to) lead a normal life C) are dead. And since Aurors are dark wizard catchers, and those guys are almost gone, it'll take out the Aurors too. I always suspected that the Auror Agency was a hard dep. to work for, which is why Hermione might seem stressed all the time, or might be a tinge meaner. -() Harry on the other hand, might seem more talkative, because I thought that since Harry is always pretty much working overseas (even though he is an Auror, he works mostly in different departments since Aurors have nothing else to do… and they do odd jobs until a mission is given to them) and Hermione never sees him, so they always do a lot of talking via Owlpost (or in this special case, phone ahaha). Ron, Hermione and Harry are still close friends, I reassure you, and I hope I'll give Ron a bigger part.

And Pansy, she's good friends with Harry and Ron, and Hermione is still a bit ify about her, not because of the fact she doesn't trust her, but because she suspects Pansy's only getting buddy-buddy with them because she wants to have a foursome or some other "sluttish" thing.

ALSO! One more thing. In case you don't know… _Protego_ is a shielding charm that only protects against magic (hexes in particular), so anything else physical and not "magically-enhanced" can go through it (i.e. a pair of scissors).

Hope I cleared some questions! Review Please! Constructive criticism is a must, this is my first comedy fic

Also a special thanks to my "beta" and real life friend (and HP fanatic that keeps me updated on useless HP facts, even against my will /sigh/) Glenyce!

- yoshi09


	2. Pansy's 'Advice'

A/N: Wow, well, it's not been that long has it? I finished reading Half-Blood Prince the second day it was out (which made no sense whatsoever… sure, I got the book at precisely 12:03AM, but I still ate properly, took time to watch TV, went to sleep, chatted with friends online… and I wasn't even TRYING to finish it the next day but I did. cry) Well, here's the next chappie. I'm trying to not let the 6th book really affect my writing, I personally thought J.K. Rowling must have been reading fanfictions in between writing her books, there were so many 'ships. I'm not complaining, it was still good, I just didn't agree with certain happenings in it which would potentially make me have to shift this story… the only thing that might be evident I've read the book is perhaps some new spells you'll read in the 6th book. I appreciate all my reviewers… I love reviews because I like improving my writing/know what I should do next. Special thanks to "mrs. skywalker" for advising me and giving my beta, Glenyce (Holy Pancake), a second opinion basically, because they both thought it was curiously (or excruciatingly) long. I love you guys!

- - - - - -

_Dear Hermione,_

_Commit suicide while it's still evitable. _

_Love, Harry_

_P.S. I just got a new phone card, I hope you didn't throw out the phone you were talking in._

- - - - - -

_Hermione-_

_Give me the address of this Glash character._

_Hope to see you soon, Ron_

- - - - - -

Hermione groaned as she put down the unhelpful articles intended to send advice. Both best friends were about as useful as a Blast-ended Skrewt. She managed to pen down the mission later that night since she couldn't sleep, explaining how she can't escape it, making it as clear as possible, and repeating it several times to both Harry and Ron (for Ron, she bolded it with her thick-ink quill and bewitched it to pop off on the page every 5 seconds) that they can NOT kill Malfoy. But she noticed, she was so engrossed into convincing them that another war would erupt if they killed Malfoy, that she left out the smaller more important details, such as how she can't escape the Auror mission if she died, or kill Nathan (which, by the way, she had already planned out). Not long after, at precisely 5AM, she had received their replies. Both unsuccessful.

She hit her head on the desk, growling low in her throat.

How could she do it? She never failed missions. EVER. And she wasn't about to just start now because she was afraid of a little ferret rabies. Hell, she wasn't afraid, she was disgusted. She hadn't seen the boy ever since they graduated, and last thing she remembered was he had given up on Pansy because he was disgusted she had slept with Dean Thomas who was in Gryffindor, which definitely associated him with the Golden Trio. She had NO idea how he worked except from an enemy's point of view. Hermione never bothered to wonder how to get on Malfoy's good side anyway… and as much as she hated to admit it, she doubted any books she had indulged in, or will ever indulge in was expertise in the subject of wooing a Malfoy.

She was about to rake her hands into her hair again, but then thought better of it, and looked distastefully at her hair as she thought she heard it purr in triumph.

She had considered Polyjuice Potion, deciding to change her form to a Veela, but that wouldn't work forever, and she didn't know the side effects it had if you were with child. UGH! Does that mean she accepted she'd have to do the mission after all? Hermione had already begun to worry about their unborn child. Hermione's face screwed up in a look of pure horror, she just said 'their unborn child.' Oh no… she had a vague fast forward into her future house which looked freakishly like the Burrow, and Hermione making a very good impression of Molly Weasley except having wild snarling brown hair, and she was yelling at fifteen or so blonde ferret spawns running around the household as she waved her ladle around.

Hermione groaned, and hit her head on the desk again. Maybe if she did it enough, the desk will feel sorry for her and suck her into its woodsy depths.

"Hermione!"

Hermione looked up, "Oh. Ginny!" If Hermione wasn't too busy imagining herself picking out matching outfits for her newly born Malfoy twins, she would have smiled, but looked absolutely sick.

"I heard about your mission."

"You… did?" Hermione whispered breathlessly, leaning deeper into her chair, maybe it'll swallow her hole since the desk wasn't as pitying. She couldn't say she wasn't half relieved she didn't have to retell the mission.

"Mmhmm." Ginny said nodding, pulling a massive beanbag chair up towards Hermione's desk with much effort. "Harry owled me as soon as he got your letter, telling me I should pay a visit since you kept emphasizing he couldn't kill Malfoy, which got him worried about your mental health." She gritted thought grunts.

"Oh."

"So, why can't we kill Malferret?" Ginny said, looking very comfortable in the red and orange bean bag chair.

"War. It might start another war."

"But there's so few death eater-"

"You forget, Gin, that the Malferret you speak of is the most influential dark wizard of our time next to Voldemort. He has connections, bribes, money, people, people who owe him…" Hermione started hitting her head on the desk again.

Ginny cocked her head to the side, just noticing a not-so-thick book that looked like something Hermione would never pick up. It was under 5 inches in length.

"Pregnancy: What to do about it?" Ginny read the title aloud.

Hermione nodded, her bushy hair covering her face from view.

"What's this for?"

"I was hoping there was a way to have a baby without the fun part of making them." Hermione started casually, "There's a way in the Muggle world, but I have no idea how anyone would or even would try to get a sample of Malfoy's sperm so they can inject it into one of my eggs."

"Harry told me you have to _sleep_ with Malfoy."

"Yes well, that was before I realized that I was looking for nothing. I forgot to return it to the library…" Hermione murmured in reply, and then she snapped her fingers and the book disappeared into a library in the upper corridors.

"So you already said yes to the mission? For sure? Even before you knew what it was? Wow Hermione, that's something Ron would do."

"Please, Ginny, don't insult me now."

Ginny didn't look at all angry that Hermione just bad mouthed her relative, in fact she looked mildly amused, and nodded with agreement.

"Well, Harry told me that you're bound to this mission until death. So… if it gets down to it…" Ginny said thoughtfully.

"Past death, Ginny. It follows me around forever until I complete it. Trust me, I would have already killed myself if I had the option."

Ginny nodded again, patting Hermione's bushy head, but she recoiled as a few strands of hair threatened to attack her.

"Hermione, it couldn't be _that_ bad, could it?"

"Would _you_ want to sleep with him?"

Ginny made a look like she was thinking, but immediately said, "No-"

"Okay then."

"-BUT, if I was in your position, I'd accept it (even though I still have no idea why you said yes before you knew what the mission was) and get it over with instead of sulk on it all day."

"Ginny, how can it not be bad? The likelihood of him snogging me is the likelihood of Harry and Ron making love in the moonlight."

The youngest Weasley looked disgusted, "You put a lot of thought into that, didn't you?"

"Ginny!" Hermione whined, "I know I'm going to hex Malfoy out of instinct! I could see it now, him entering the doorway, and me screaming '_Petrificus Totalus!_'"

"I don't know if Malferret's the kinky type, 'Mione. I'm sure he'd love to be moving while you're screaming his name in ecstasy-"

"Okay, stop Ginny."

"-and then he reaches his breaking point and you both ride Heaven's most-"

"Ginny!"

"-glorious rainbow, and then-"

"_Silencio_!"

Ginny was still blabbing inaudibly, looking very much like a gold fish out of water with her enthusiastic gesticulations. Then she noticed she was silenced, and immediately stopped talking, giving Hermione a cheeky grin.

"Good lord, Ginny, you're… you're the most evil thing since Cher!"

Ginny looked offended, as if to say, 'I can't believe you compared me to Cher.'

"I can't believe you know about Cher." Retorted Hermione.

Ginny mouthed, 'Who doesn't know about her? She was known for making half the wizarding world deaf. Which I consider lucky, seeing as the rest of us had to endure her voice.'

Hermione chuckled. Then did the counterspell on Ginny, and she was back to talking again,

"Anyway, 'Mione, I think that you should really get your thoughts together. Get some advice from Pansy or something. The quicker you do it, the less time you have to go about thinking of it."

"Your reasoning doesn't make any sense, Gin."

"I know."

"Pansy? Reasoning? That's a good one. Tell me another."

"Hermione… I'm sure Pansy must have slept with Malferret once or twice. I think she can give you tips on working with him… I mean, working _on_ him."

"Hah hah hah."

"If anything, you should get this mission over with as soon as possible, and trust me, if anyone knows anything about sleeping with Malfoy, its Pansy."

"Asking Pansy for advice doesn't sound… right."

"Just do it. Now I'm going to go get a bite to eat, I'm starving. It's about 7am right now, and I'm sure you need some sleep. I'll owl Harry about why you can't kill yourself, and inform choice family members." Ginny, stretched before continuing, "I'll be back down around lunch- I'll get you something. Night."

Hermione faintly heard Ginny whispering a lullaby that she knew very well would send her to sleep, before she drifted off all together.

- - - - - - -

"Hermione! You got it easy, Darling!" said Pansy. It was about 1pm, and Hermione had just woken up to the sound of a ringing phone 30 minutes before. To her disgust, Pansy's squeal was the first thing she heard when she picked up the receiver. And as expected, her 'advice' was far from helpful. The conversation went from make-up products, to Lavender's latest fling with a muggle to what pork chops were really made of. Finally, Hermione coaxed back the topic of discussion.

"D-Don't call me Darling," said Hermione with annoyance completely evident in her voice.

"But anyone would kill for that position, Herm!" Pansy exclaimed enthusiastically. "To think you're getting paid to sleep with Draco!"

"Pansy-"

"The walking sex organ himself! The icing on the cake! The dangerously sexy-"

"Prat." Hermione finished.

"No, not the word I was looking for. Slytherin King, Hermione. The dangerously sexy Slytherin King.

"I didn't know there was a crown for being annoying, selfish, rude, dishonest, malicious, and annoying."

"Oh, Hermione," Pansy laughed, "No need to compliment yourself! People might consider that… conceited."

Hermione glowered.

"('Pansy you're holding the cell phone upside down!' Harry's voice said.) Oh? Am I?" There was a scuffling and then Pansy's already loud voice became nauseatingly clearer. "Like this? ('Perfect! Tell 'Mione ello!') Harry Potter says 'hello,' Hermione."

"Tell him likewise, and also tell him thanks for making your unrelenting condescending voice ever so much more pronounced."

And to Hermione's amusement, Pansy did. But then again, Hermione wasn't too surprised that Pansy didn't have the word 'condescending' in her vocabulary.

"Also tell him I want to defenestrate you right now."

Pansy also told Harry this, then giggled, "Hermione, I didn't think 'phone sex' was your thing. ('Err… Pansy, defenestrate means she wants to throw you out a window.') No...really?" said Pansy coyly, having no idea what Harry meant by that. Surely, any word being shot at Pansy with so much passion like how Hermione did would mean sex.

"I didn't think you'd know about phone sex." Hermione said with surprise.

"I did some free reading. Who knew Playgirl was as good as Playwitch! And those compromising positions!-"

"Okay, Pansy."

"Oh right, right. Advice."

Hermione sighed audibly.

"Draco is always a variety. You know, he's a Scorpio, so he's an awesome lover."

"…"

"He even makes bad lovers into good ones."

"What are you implying?" Hermione asked bitterly.

"Well, Lavender told me you made Krum gay-"

"We're getting off topic!"

"Sorry, again! Okay, Draco is always into sex. He made me tired with how many routines we did-"

"Coming from a girl who slept with half of Hogwarts, that's a surprise."

"-and his stamina… Mm…" Pansy moaned dreamily.

"Pansy, I don't want to hear you getting off on Malfoy."

"Sorry?" Pansy said breathlessly.

"Never mind. I'm going to hang up."

"Hang up? What's hang up?"

"End the conversation on a phone."

"Why would you want to end this conversation? ('Mione wants to stop talking to you? What did you say?') Nothing! I was giving her advice! ('Here give me the cell… no, not the cell phone charger, the thing in your hand')." There was some shuffling of one hand passing a phone to another, and Harry's teasingly pleasant voice resounded into Hermione's ear,

"Hi 'Mione," he said cheekily, much like how Ginny did when she described Hermione and Malferret's climatic charade, "What happened?"

"I refuse to talk to someone who's springing a leak off relating her stories of how good a rabid rodent is in bed. It's revolting."

Harry started laughing and replied smoothly, "Well either way, that's what you'll be doing perhaps a week from now after we decide you and that rabid rodent's baby's name."

"What! A week? Have you gone daft?"

"Too long? Oh well, Ron bet two weeks, and George bet three months. Fred wanted out and said George might want to move somewhere remote after he wins, like the jungle, so when you come to kill him your hair might catch on a branch and George can escape-"

"YOU BET ON HOW FAST I CAN BED MALFOY?"

"No worries, if me or Ron win, we split the profit. 1,000 Galleons PLUS a chance to name the baby! We're going to get it!"

"Get a swift kick in the ass!" Hermione was livid, "I'm worth more than 1,000 Galleons!"

There was a shuffling and Pansy's squeaking came through the phone again, "I should come fly down there to London, and give you personal tips. I simply LOVE Muggle international transport! 'Airphane' isn't it? ('Airplane, Pansy.') Right, right, airplane it is then."

"I'd rather you not."

"Oh come on, Hermy!"

Hermione cringed. Pansy's voice coupled with an even more distasteful form of her horrible nickname was like listening to a cat claw a blackboard.

"It's not like we'll be doing anything… naughty," she said suggestively, "I mean, tips, right?"

"No, it's not that," Hermione lied, "I wouldn't want to take you away from your vacationing."

"Hardly. I've got workloads over here."

"Which is why I shouldn't hold you up on your work." Hermione said quickly. She could almost hear Pansy's pout.

"Hmph. Well then, I suppose since _Lavender_ isn't doing anything productive except wasting space on the receipt on our cadet cars ('Credit cards, Pansy.' Harry corrected.), right, credit cards, she should go in my place."

"Oh," Hermione said with a nervous chuckle, "No, it's really okay. I'm fine with all you told me." Lavender was almost worse than Pansy. Hermione could see herself now, trapped under 8 inches of make up and weighed down so heavily under 10 tons of bobby pins and hairclips that she can't run away as Lavender gossips about having sex with Ron and Harry at the same time.

"Which is why there's so much more you need to know! Hm. How should I say this…Ah yes, it's like you reading chapter one in Hogwarts: A History, you only get a gist of what the whole book is about. Now, Lavender has some good ideas. She's the one who offered me Playgirl after all. I'll tell her right away! Lav would simply _love_ giving you fashion and style ideas!"

Hermione was so stunned that Pansy memorized a title of one of Hermione's favorite books that she forgot to stop Pansy as she asked Harry how to 'turn this thing off' and hung up completely.

- - - - - - -

A/N: Yay! I'm done with chappie number two! Okay, before the rabid Draco fan girls attack me, let me say it now: I know he's a Gemini. I mean, I had to endure 5 minutes of my beta and real life friend ranting about it, in person. So before you guys should panic/hyperventilate/think the world is ending, I'm going to "clarify." I made him a Scorpio, because it matches his personality better. I decided that I should revolve Draco around his astrological elements, not because I believe in the stuff, but because it makes everything so much easier and not to mention, fun. And thanks Colleen (Moonlightshadows) for doing some little editing here and there.

Oh yeah, and can someone also re-clarify whether or not Ginny's real name is Ginerva or Ginevra? My beta thinks it's Ginevra…

-yoshi09


	3. Mission Briefs

A/N/smiles/ you guys are so SWEET /touched/. I went to the mall with my beta (Holy Pancake) and my other friend (Moonlightshadows) over the last weekend of July, and took a break from the computer (yay!). It was fun, and I realized for the first time my beta is a shopaholic /shudder/. Also I got a new story idea I shared with both of them, and I can't wait to start that. But no worries, I'm planning to finish this story first. Okay, without further ado, here's your long awaited Chapter 3.

Oh yeah… and its 8/2/2005 right now. Sorry for the late start on updates. /nervous laugh/

Thanks to Titansgirl27, sienna, and Silverbunnie for the clarifications on Ginevra.

A/N: part 2: oh hah, I actually FINISHED this chapter yesterday (9/6/2005) but did some re-edits and going to send it off to my beta. So sorry guys for not updating. This chapter's not TOO good, but it sets the grounds for the next chapter and the meeting of Malfoy /cheer!

- - - - - - - - - -

_**Mayhem at the Ministry… and Snorklaks exposed**_

_Issue: Monday, October 23_

_John Wicklewhither and Sean Castles were found obliviated this morning when they had arrived at their later-than-usual time at _The Quibbler_ Headquarters (TQH). "They seemed very lost and unsure of why they were here, armed with only a camera, and dust gathered on them like a second shed of clothing," commented Susie Underwood, a correspondent for _Quibbler_ magazine who ran into her two obliviated friends of her section, "I had greeted them as usual, assuming that Shicklewelling Beasts have sneezed on them on the way to work, since they were covered in white dust on their suits and whatnot, and they had looked very lost. It was absurd that they didn't know why they were here, much less remembered their names." After a few further questionings from other employees that had talked to the two confused and highly esteemed reporters, _The Quibbler _concluded that they were indeed brainwashed, and if it wasn't for the business cards that John Wicklewhither found in the inner pocket of his suit, they would have never made it back to their workplace with such evidence of the Ministry hiding a very rare but prestigious beast, Snorklaks._

"Oh, for the love of… Ginny! You don't expect me to keep reading!"  
"Don't be stubborn, it's getting good!"

_Yes, that's right. The Ministry of Magic is hiding **Snorklaks**._

_After some of The Quibbler photographers removed the negatives from the camera found in the possession of Sean Castles, what they found was astonishing. Perfectly preserved Snorklak footprint pictures. Astounded, the photographers asked where the pictures were taken, but to no avail, all the two obliviated correspondents remembered was leaving the _Ministry of Magic_ and trying to make their way back to TQH. At first, the people of _Quibbler _could not believe their ears, why would the Ministry be hiding such a rare creature? After close examinations, they concluded that this wasn't some haywire story that the two brainwashed citizens claimed, but indeed, was true. On the wastebasket that the Snorklak had stomped ever so gracefully upon, were the initials complete with crest, "M.o.M" the trademark of only Ministry of Magic itself. "It can't be possible," exclaimed a photographer turned investigator who refused to give his name and insisted to remain anonymous, "Why would the Ministry want to hide them? Is there something more to these fascinating creatures? I'd like to say no, but after seeing these two reporters obliviated, it's hard to. They might have stumbled upon something secretive." Perhaps. Further investigations are being _

"That's it."

"You didn't turn the page, 'Mione!"

"I don't want to read anymore, Gin." Hermione shook her head, and shoved the paper unceremoniously to her side as she tried to purposely slosh the paper with the warm soup Ginny had brought up with her for Hermione's brunch.

Ginny saved it though before the soup could much less touch a corner of _The Quibbler_ magazine.

"Fine then, I'll read it for you. '_held out, as _Quibbler _tries to find where the footprint must have been-_'"

"Please. Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes easily fixed it up with _Reparo_. I think they did some renovations as well. I like the nice periwinkle touch on my walls. Calming, they are." Hermione huffed, stuffing the spoon furthermore into her mouth.

Ginny looked down incredulously at Hermione from her perch on the tabletop, her mouth twisted into a sort of lopsided smile.

"Stubborn. I mean, really."

"Mmph." Hermione grunted back.

"So anyway," Ginny said, stuffing the magazine into her back pocket, ("Throw it away, Gin!" protested Hermione, but Ginny ignored her), "I heard you got your reports."

"Yes, I tried seeing my ex-boss for where Malfoy might be at the moment."

"Ex-boss? But I just checked on Nathan Glash this morning, he seemed perfectly fine… Hermione you didn't kill-"

"No, no, not yet. ("Yet?" asked Ginny with a raised eyebrow) But I'm assuming I kill him before I go off on my mission. I'm trying to get used to the ring of 'ex-boss,' it has that amusing tone in it, doesn't it? Ex-boss." Hermione repeated the word to herself over and over, smiling maniacally and nearly snapping her spoon in half in her glee. Ginny looked slightly frightened, seeing as the spoon was made of bewitched metal, which was virtually unbreakable, and Hermione was bending it easily.

"Err… right. So any clue where Malferret is?"

"No, Glash just recently had a 100 ft. restraining order on me apparently." Hermione nodded knowingly, "Doesn't stop me from cursing his head to oblivion. I have stupendous aim, you know."

Ginny giggled uneasily, last she heard from Harry, Hermione had nearly cursed HIM to oblivion when she had been meaning to hit Malfoy. And Malfoy was 1 foot away in FRONT of Hermione, where as Harry had been across the hall speaking with Dumbledore, BEHIND her.

"Besides, he shouted some of the information behind those crowbars meant to stop me from getting too close. He said something about the Creevey brothers individually handing me a manila folder filled with info some time today. You know, since they're so studious and nosy, they're bound to dig up more information than any other, including that one reporter, Rita Skeeter."

"Rita Skeeter? Wasn't she the one that Pansy had sex with, that one time?"

"No, no… Rita Skeeter was that illegal ladybug animagus out to get Harry, I believe that the one Pansy slept with was Rita Sheetsker." Hermione looked up in thought, "Wait no, no… it was Rita Sleeter," she said, naming the various Rita's on fingers, "Oh no, I think she had sex with all three of them."

"Oh?" Ginny inquired.

"Yeah well, I wouldn't be surprised if she did."

They nodded.

"Anyway, when's Lavender coming?" Ginny asked.

"What? How did you find out about that?"

"George."

"How'd he find out?"

"Mum."

"How'd Mrs. Weasley find out?"

"It's complicated."

"Why am I always the last one to know these things?" Hermione looked a bit aggravated being so slow on the uptake and always being last in the latest gossip.

"Harry tells me sometime around 11:30 tomorrow."

"11:30? How come he never tells me these things?" Hermione's mind started reeling about how she could get out of the Ministry and out of London before 11:30.

"You forget he's best friends with Ron, making me a second hand source. Besides, Harry said you might run so I'm not supposed to tell you, lest you get out of town and avoid Lavender all together."

"Now, why would I think of running out of town?" Hermione chuckled uneasily. Ginny didn't know occlumency, did she?

"Oh please, I'd run too if I saw Lavender coming over to give me sex advice."

"I wouldn't dare. Lavender is such a great frie-"

"And Pansy is a saint. Please, Hermione."

Hermione looked fidgety.

"Speaking of saints, Hagrid passed by earlier!"

"Hagrid?" That's a name she hadn't heard for awhile except in newspapers.

"Yes, Hagrid."

"How does he relate to saints?" Hermione asked.

"Well, eh-heh. Anyway, he passed by and gave me this to give you from his last vacation. I think it's a Coastguard." Ginny handed Hermione a 5" by 8" card, with a picture of a Hawaiian sunset with the caption, _Magic at the Luau_, and on the back was what was indeed in Hagrid's scribbly writing.

"Postcard?"

"No, no, Hagrid said very clearly, 'Oast Ard' you know his accent, fill in the letters and what do you get…"

"Right. Anyway, I'm going to start looking for the Creevey brothers, it's been two to three hours since I last saw them, and that's enough time for them to download the whole world on their computer."

"Downloed? Komputah?"

"Never mind. Ginny, thanks for everything."

"Nothing to it, Hermione. I'm going to be up in an old classmate's department. I think the fourth floor. So I'll see you again. I have work tomorrow so I'm going to catch up with some friends."

"Sure, Gin, sure."

Later…

Hermione sipped her coffee slowly, reveling in the sweet sunset that caressed the reading section of the Ministry's library. She always liked it here and she had this whole section to herself. Mondays were always like this, everyone had something better to do than spend their time at the library apparently. Hermione wasn't everyone. She loved to nestle in a good book over the week, you know, snuggle next to the warm fire that the librarian always kindly kindled every night just for her since she knew Hermione not only from her extraordinary intelligence, but because she was a daily visitor (the librarian, who was usually strict with the non-food/drink policy would let Hermione drink or snack on some biscuits because they were practical colleagues in the book industry). There was nothing better than finishing a stressful day off in Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_ or maybe a rereading of _20,000 Leagues Under the Sea_- both books which the librarian knowledgably approved as, "Classic literature" with a smile.

But no, Hermione would not be dreaming about _Moby Dick_ or cursing characters in _Hamlet_ today. Today, she was here to clear her mind before she OFFICIALLY started the mission that she so willingly and yet so unwillingly accepted.

Hermione had stared at the manila folder for quite sometime now, sitting and sipping the same cup of coffee for a few hours to the point that the ever-filling mug in her hand protested that she had enough caffeine today and refused to heat the coffee that refilled itself for the hope that Hermione might stop drinking it. So, Hermione was sitting and sipping the same cup of _cold_ coffee for quite sometime now, wondering whether or not to meet her doom head on, or wait a few more minutes for it to settle in.

Finally she made her decision, and before she could change it, she nimbly grabbed the thin manila folder in her hand, and flipped it open. The first page contained the usual formalities- the Ministry of Magic title complete with crest, her name beside the word "agent" and the mission title, part she was currently doing, and her primary objectives. The mission was appropriately called "Seduction," the first part being to get Malfoy to trust her and vice versa.

She turned the page, where she found a picture of Draco Malfoy's face, looking to be 17 with the year "1998" etched in it. She unclipped the picture so she was able to read underneath. It was titled "Profile" which was, indeed, a profile of Malfoy, three pages of font 10 Times New Roman on the evil ferret. From his favorite candy, to a timeline of his life, it was practically all there. Hermione looked at the 5 paragraphs that followed the word "profile," the Creevey brothers really did some digging, as they had also categorized the paragraphs, naming them the following: NAME MEANINGS; FAMILY; APPEARANCE; DRACO at HOGWARTS; SKILLS, INTERESTS, ETC. The rest of the pages were filled with half-finished notes and small nothings about Malfoy that might be useful to Hermione later.  
Unfortunately, Hermione didn't have the attention span to read up on her worse enemy, so she settled with skimming, which got her a gist of what he was- intelligent, tall, a writer.  
She turned the page again.

- - - - - - - - - -  
_MoM  
Agent: Hermione Granger_

_Mission 1: Seduction_

_Part i: trusting Malfoy, and him to trust you._

_Briefing: Draco Malfoy is located currently taking a tour that is apparently for entertainment purposes. Top class tour of France, courtesy of Beauxbatons. The tour is called: Accueillir à Beauxbatons; and we have booked you a spot in the tour (which is starting in about two days). The necessary things have been set in place- you have a room booked in the highest tower of Beauxbatons under your name, which is two rooms down from Malfoy's, you also have seat arrangements where he's in talking distance etc. The rest is up to you. Keep us briefed, Hermione! We're counting on you.  
- MoM/Nathan Glash_

_Agent Granger, we're also sending off with you some equipment you may find useful on your trip, just in case. A package from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is also included, and top class just for the trip.  
- Department of Magical Law Enforcement _

Hey, Hermione! I hope you found everything fit. We put a lot of thought into this, since we want to have revenge on him too! Haha, well thanks for all you've done. Keep us posted about how it's going, and remember if you need anything, we'll be standing by.  
- Creevey brothers

- - - - - - - - - -

Hermione smiled lightly. 'Do it for the Creevey brothers then, 'Mione,' she thought silently to herself. 'Prepare yourself Malfoy, a year in Heaven is nothing compared what I have planned for you…'  
But just as she thought this, a familiar voice said from behind her,  
"Figures, Hermione. But really now, A library, on Monday?"

Hermione turned around and gaped.

A/N: okay, one-two months of break from this story, lol. Special thanks to Hp-Lexicon, since I got most of all that Background info on Malfoy from their site, and some editations by me, and also thanks to flytobeauxbatons (the site, you could probably find them via google). since their name gave me the idea of the tour.

As for why I hadn't updated in so long- I've been distracted. So sorry! And yes, I know you're probably itching for when Hermione FINALLY gets down to the seducing business. I know, the ficcie is so SLOW /sigh/ but I hope I'll have something for you two chapters down. I already know what the next chapter has, and no, that won't have any Draco-ness in it (that I plan anyway), but the chapter after that WILL. So be reassured. And stay tuned! Thanks for everything, guys!

-yoshi09


	4. Dolling up Hermione

A/N: Oh I'M SO SORRY for not updating sooner! I really don't have any excuse but that I'm lazy. PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I had to completely change my previous A/N because I haven't updated this fic since the 4th Happy Potter movie came out, and I was still debating about watching Narnia… which was EONS ago. Anyway, I've been working on "A Call" a little bit here and there over the long hiatus I've been taking, and I'm happy to say that I'm a bit happy about where this fanfiction is going. **I'm sorry, there'll be no Draco in this chappie either, but I promise for him to make his grand entrance next chapter**. : D I'm so thankful that you guys are still reading this fic, I'm overwhelmed with you guys' support. /hugs/ So, I'm hoping this'll be worth the long wait. Love you all!

Oh, and before I forget… special thanks to Pluto because if it wasn't for me stumbling over her review saying "Please please update!" and my very… uh… persistent, beta pestering me about updations to no end, this chapter would probably have never been created.

yoshi09

- - - - - - - - - - -

"L-Lavender… I didn't think you'd be here so… so… early-!" Hermione said, fumbling over her words. Lavender stood behind her, sunglasses pushed up like a hair band in her blonde locks, sporting a singular rolling suitcase and Chick bag that had matching sequins to her jeans, and to complete the look, a slinky tank top. It wouldn't take an idiot too long to know Lavender had somewhat been influenced by Pansy in the wardrobe. Hermione silently hoped it was the only thing that Pansy changed in Lavender. One Pansy was enough, and she wasn't looking forward to half a Pansy stuck in a brainwashed Lavender. "I thought you were coming tomorrow?"

Lavender's mouth twisted to a pout, "I'm here for you, 'Mione. You'd think you'd be a little pleased… and besides," Lavender continued, "I made it very clear to Harry not to spill that me and Pansy wanted me to come as soon as possible since you so apparently lacked fashion sense which got us worried and decided needed immediate attention. And anyway, knowing you- you'd split if you knew I was coming."

Great. Just what Hermione needed- a Pansy with brains.

"Oh," Hermione chuckled uneasily, "Is that right?"

"I'm just glad I came while you're still sane… I mean, for a moment, I thought you reached 'the-point-of-no-help' when I heard you were in the library and I nearly panicked… then I realized going to the library on a perfectly young weeknight is what a sane Hermione Granger would probably do." Lavender gave Hermione a pitying look while Hermione promptly returned it with a scowl. "Thank Merlin I came on time to help you with your mental fashion illness!"

"I already went and got help from professionals about my mental health," said Hermione calmly. "They said I'm 'beyond hope' and that 'a homicidal maniac has better chance at recovery' than me. They also suggest I try staying away from anything that might cause anxiety attacks. Such as anything annoying, colorful, and lack dignity… per se, Pansy's FASHION SENSE." Hermione finished, enunciating her last two words.

Lavender stared at Hermione for a few moments as if trying to register what she just said. But then Lavender retorted smoothly, "I didn't know you had a sense of humor, Hermione. You continue to surprise me."

Hermione huffed under her breath in response.

"Relax, 'Mione. I'm not Pansy. I've a bit more dignity than her- now come on and bring me to your living quarters around here." She smiled and placed a hand on Hermione's elbow and jerked her arm up, causing Hermione to almost drop the manila folder in Lavender's haste and unceremoniously toppling Hermione (cold coffee and all) down on the ground. Lavender "tsk-tsk'd" and then practiced a well-performed _scourgify_ on the ground to clean the coffee before helping Hermione up and leading her outside of the library. "I assure you my sophisticated yet sexy look I've got planned for you is perfect. You can pull it off."

"Your outfit seems to say differently."

"Oh," Lavender started laughing, "Pansy bought this tank top for me… asked me to try it out. I thought it was okay, although a lot of chest is exposed… is there a draft in here? Slightly cold. "

A few teenage wizards stopped to gape openly at Lavender as she and Hermione walked by.

"And these kids. I mean, honestly, where are their mothers? I didn't think Hogwarts was on holiday until next week. I mean, I know I look good, but this is just ridiculous." Then noticing one cute 6th year who was staring at her, she threw a casual wink causing the boy to crash into a pillar in front of him because of it. Lavender smirked. "Hormones, I swear."

"Maybe the fact your breasts are spilling out of your tank top might contribute." Hermione remarked dryly.

"Oh. That's odd. They didn't do that before."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Lavender stopped in the middle of the walkway to "stuff" her breasts back into the tank top, earning them a bigger male audience.

"They don't pop out too much, right, Hermione?" Lavender bent over to show Hermione, but she had already moved ahead of her.

"Are you trying to give a show or help me with 'fashion'?"

Lavender blinked. "Excuse me?" she asked as if oblivious to her own actions. She regained herself quickly from her previous "shock" though when she saw Hermione stop in front of an unmarked door, with a rusty knob, obviously her room which happened to be in the busiest hallway of the living quarters. Lavender quickly sidestepped next to Hermione and grabbed her gently by the elbow with her one free hand, and ushered her away from the door and deeper into the hall. Hermione opened her mouth to protest that they passed her room, but the subtle look that Lavender threw her quelled her need to ask; Lavender was leading her somewhere and obviously didn't want anyone else to know where.

"Let's visit Ginny first?" said Hermione in a seemingly normal voice, but Lavender caught the flash in Hermione's eyes. Lavender knew Hermione well enough, having shared a dorm with her in Hogwarts, to know that when her eyes flashed she usually meant something else than what she was actually saying. Hermione wanted to know where they were going.

"Have you talked to Parvati lately…?" Lavender said impishly.

Hermione's footfalls slowed down considerably and she looked behind her to her room. It seemed so far away now.

- - - - - - - - - -

50 minutes later found Hermione apparated away from the safety of the Ministry to trying various brand name robes in the largest bedroom she'd ever been in with an even larger wardrobe connected to it. Clothes were lain across various types of furniture and a large pile of dresses were starting to form on the queen sized mattress, that truly looked to be fit for a queen with it's stylish embroidery and see through hangings. The large curtains across the room were thrown aside for a breathtaking view of the countryside and a few other mansions scattered down the way, the moonlight filtering through the room's spotless windows. Opposite the window to the other far wall was a balcony that overhung an old looking brick path that led to an equally beautiful garden; a light mist flowing over the greenery from a large fountain giving it an almost surreal appearance. Hermione felt like she had been plucked out of reality and dropped into a dream.

Pansy Parkinson truly was living in luxury.

"Oh Jesus, this is short." Hermione commented distastefully, looking at the knee length skirt she wore in front of the wide body length ornate mirror in front of her.

"Herm, that skirt screams sophisticated yet sexy. Besides, it's only knee-length," replied Lavender gently, absently magiking Hermione's hair into various hairstyles while Hermione scowled at her reflection, "and everything else in Pansy's closet doesn't… really, per se, scream your area of expertise." Lavender looked pointedly at the discarded black lace lingerie at the foot of the bed.

"I'd have to agree with the young miss, dear," replied the mirror in a grandmotherly fashion to Hermione, "The skirt looks glorious on you."

"I might as well be wearing her bikini and thongs. Watch this." Hermione made a full 360 degree turn and the skirt whirled so high it showed her pink and green-polka dotted panties in all their feminine glory.

Lavender rubbed her temple sheepishly, "Well, look on the bright side, the skirt brings out your better half."

"One more comment like that and I'll tell Zacharias Smith you've gone lesbian." Hermione said warningly.

"Oh, Herm, don't tell him that! Last time you did that Zachy came with a bunch of his cronies flanking his sides drooling. It took me ten weeks to convince them I wasn't a porn star giving out free demonstrations!"

The bushy-haired woman smiled, "Shouldn't have tried to get me into that purple bikini." Hermione had already started stripping out of the flowy skirt and looked up at Lavender, "Ask Parvati how the 'quest for modesty' is coming."

Lavender shifted from her position on her stomach on the squishy reclining chair to look at Parvati's form in the closet who was too deep inside to really hear Hermione and Lavender's conversations. Her best friend was practically having a fiesta in the wardrobe, pulling out various clothes in a fury of a well brought up shopper at a buy one get one free sale. "How's the quest for modesty coming, Parvati?" yelled Lavender.

"Fantastic! I can't believe Pansy has Laury Ticklefoot robes! They're absolutely bloody amazing!"

"Laury Ticklefoot? Those are worth 100 galleons!"

"I know, isn't it great?" called Parvati.

"What year are they?"

"Oh Merlin, I can't believe I forgot to check, but the fabric feels like unicorn tail…" There was a three second pause as Parvati checked the robes, followed by a squeal of appreciation, "Year 1602! They're over centuries old! These must be worth a thousand-"

"Galleons!" Both Parvati and Lavender finished together.

"Wait! And it says they were owned by… by… Sorceress Salyta! We studied her in our 5th year, remember?" yelled Parvati. "She must've been GOR-Gee-ous!"

"Sorceress Salyta? Who'd want to wear her robes?" said Hermione loudly.

"Who WOULDN'T?" Parvati retorted, carefully looking over the sew work.

"Wasn't she the whore that sucked men's souls out of their nostrils to make concoctions that castrate males under the age of 99?" Hermione replied, earning her two glares.

"Well, I'm sure she was a very intelligent witch then," defended Lavender.

The yelling conversation continued, and only after Hermione tossed the skirt disdainfully, did Lavender stop their conversation as she managed to catch the skirt with a practiced _Wingardium Leviosa_.

"Well, keep looking for Madame à la Perfection brand… or Effleurant! Keep us posted, Parvati!"

"So anyway," continued Hermione, "enlighten me on whose bright idea was it to raid Pansy's closet?"

"Pansy suggested you do that," said Lavender, pulling a Honeydukes lollipop in and out of her mouth, "Draco always seemed to take a liking in Pansy's clothing. And you, have to dress to impress… these lollipops make the most glorious popping feeling on your tongue." added Lavender as an after thought, taking the lollipop completely out of her mouth to examine its texture.

"But Pansy dresses just enough to border legal! For God's sake, she wore her leather mini and spiked boots to the local children's hospital last June when her nephew got sick!"

Lavender sighed, "Hermione Granger?"

"What?"

"Look at me. Good. Now remind me why I flew all the way back from California."

"Because Pansy sent you."

"For?"

"Helping me choose clothes to impress Malfoy."

"Draco." Lavender corrected.

"Draco." Hermione repeated half-heartedly as she sprawled down on the polished wooden floor.

"Which means…?"

"Dragon or Snake in Latin-"

"No, I mean, which means no matter how much you whine, I'm _what_ until you do what?" Lavender said.

"You're stuck here until I'm done packing."

"Good. Now you realize I'm missing on a very good vacation."

"I wish I can say the same." Hermione sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

"Let's get going then. Parvati!" Lavender called back into the closet, "How's it coming?"

"Wonderous! I got a next batch all ready for a Miss Hermione Granger!"

Hermione rolled over. "Noo…."

"I don't care, Herm. You've got to be eye-catchy, witty, stylish and pretty."

"Thanks." Hermione murmured.

"Oh, Hermione, I didn't mean it that way!"

It was nearly dawn when Hermione's intended two suitcases suddenly tripled to six (overstuffed as well). Hermione had always been a light packer, but Parvati had insisted she bring more clothes for the month she was to stay on the tour.

Hermione wasn't at all pleased. "But Parvati, why can't I just shrink these suitcases-"

"No! Some of these robes are unshrinkable because of their old age and fragility, I won't have any of it!" Parvati huffed, zipping up the last of the suitcases and buckling them securely.

"Make sure you get the case of shoes attached to it too," said Lavender.

"Honestly…" Hermione murmured. There are only three things Hermione didn't understand about the world- The Quantum theory, Ron Weasley's logic, and women's obsession with shoes.

As soon as Parvati was done wrestling with the stainless steel locks (metal locks rusted), she turned around to Hermione, and nodded approvingly at her outfit she currently exhibited- dark jeans that hugged her wide hips and slimmed down the length of legs, a bronzed belt slung from the left side of her waist in a diagonal so that the other side of the belt loosely touched her right hip which broke up the plain light brown tank top that accentuated her slim figure. After outfitting Hermione in so many types of clothing, they deciding Hermione looked better in neutrals than in outrageously hot colors that Parvati and Lavender usually preferred, and therefore settled with packing simpler clothes for her daily outfits. Parvati smiled gently, Hermione really did have subtle otherworldly beauty that caused the clothes to wear her as an accessory since she made them look good… if you moved that mass of hair of hers out of her face anyway. Lavender was pleased with Parvati's handiwork, and that was saying something- Lavender was a bit hard to please. Hermione herself had glanced at the mirror more than twice (A hard feat to cause Hermione to do), and Parvati had caught her small smile of approval with the outfit- it wasn't much, but it lighted her face with an elegance that you'd find on people wearing the most expensive silks and dress robes.

"…so remember to give us a call, and owl Parvati if an occasion arises…" Lavender was saying to Hermione as Parvati looked her over.

"I will, I will."

"Now here's my card," Lavender handed her a small white business card, "Keep in touch, all right? We need to make sure you're wearing the right things if something important comes up. You look gorgeous."

"I feel bloated in this top."

"That's a temporary feeling, M'dear," replied Lavender.

"Now you remember what we taught you about walking in heels during Yule Ball, correct?" Lavender said, rummaging through her purse again.

"Yes, that I embarrass woman kind and should never try pursuing such a feat again because Hagrid could probably walk in heels better than me-"

"No, no, I mean _after_ you got the balance part of the deal right."

"Hermione rolled her eyes, "Do I _have_ to?"

"Yes!" remarked Parvati, "Every girl should have this song in their head when walking in heels!"

"I doubt every girl sings, 'I'm too sexy' when they walk in heels, Parvati." Said Hermione defeated.

"I agree, but they all should be. It builds self-confidence and makes the woman believe what they say, therefore becoming one with the… with the sexy, I suppose." Parvati retorted, which earned her a glare from Lavender.

"Parv, the way you talk just convinces Hermione more of why she SHOULDN'T sing it." Lavender turned back to Hermione, "Let me see you do it again, and I want you to sing the lyrics out loud." Lavender said.

"I refuse." Hermione replied.

"Don't be stubborn!" Parvati and Lavender yelled back together.

"This is ludicrous," Hermione crossed her arms- a defensive stance both Parvati and Lavender had seen way to often.

"Do it! It's the 'walk' that gets to the 'talk' which leads to the 'rock' in the bedroom, Love."

Hermione made it a point to look away from them.

"Fine! If _you_ won't do it, _I_ will." Remarked Parvati in a huff.

"Oh, by the beard of Merlin, no!" whispered Lavender in a rush. Everybody knew Parvati couldn't sing. She whirled back to Hermione, who looked as wide-eyed and fearful as Lavender, but Hermione quickly recovered by scrunching her eyebrows in sheer determination of maintaining the pride she was infamous for. "Hermione!" Lavender cried.

"No!" she replied, "Never again. I forgot the lyrics, anyway."

"Well, you heard it!" said Parvati, "Maybe if I sang them to you, you'd remember-" Parvati took a deep breath, "I'm toO sexy fOr mY sh-"

Lavender immediately clapped both hands against either side of her head and yelled over Parvati's screeching voice at Hermione, "Good grief, Granger!" Lavender turned a hurried glance at Parvati who was about to put more emphasis on how off tone she was. "For the sake of all of us, just DO it."

"Shiiiiirrrrrtttt… I'M A MOOODEEELLL-"

Hermione, whose ear drums were protesting so loudly even her stubbornness was overridden screamed, "All right! I remember! For the love of GOD, I remember the lyrics!"

Lavender immediately pounced on top of Parvati, and placed two hands over her mouth. "What was that?"

Hermione stomped her feet which made her look very much like a three-year-old in tantrum. "OKAY."

Lavender let go of Parvati, who squealed in delight, which was an improvement from her previous shrieking.

"Now you remember?"

"Yes, yes." Hermione retorted in irritation.

"Okay, but when you do it, I want you to do everything we've taught you to do in your head out loud, all right? Do it right the first time, and we won't ask you do it again." Lavender said.

"All _right_…" Hermione rolled her eyes. She then positioned herself several feet away from the two best friends. "Okay," she breathed slowly, "Shoulders back," Hermione rolled her shoulders back with her words, "Feet forward, and knees relaxed but not sloppy," she followed her words as she said them, "Poise and head held up high but not like a horse, but as if you were a princess that everyone respected…"

Hermione gave an inquiring eye at Lavender as she said cautiously, "Arms are relaxed and at your side, not floppy but poised and aligned with the imaginary 'grace line,' give them a swing, but overdo it and fail…" Lavender gave a nod to assure Hermione she was doing it right so far. Then, quoting Parvati in perfect word-for-word Hermione style, she said "Then walk. In a straight line, but not quite." Hermione felt her right foot move over and in front of her left, her feet were currently barefoot, but her body automatically raised themselves slightly on tippy-toe- a sign of constant (and vigorous, if you will) training of walking in heels by Parvati and Lavender, "You are a predator, and you own the savannah."

She breathed in deeply again. "You take your time, and etiquette is scarcely a necessity… you make your own rules, you are your own woman, and every woman…" Hermione hardly noticed she was two feet away from Lavender and Parvati now, "… is unique. Every woman's walk speaks volumes about their personality- about the prowess and femininity within."

"Sing it."

Hermione gave a sharp glare at Lavender but began (very clumsily), "I'm… too sexy for my love… too sexy for my love, Love's going to leave me…"

"Oh honestly, Hermione- get to the part we TAUGHT you."

"I _loathe _that-"

"I don't care. Is this mission all about you? What will Draco think? Remember it's the walk that leads to the talk that leads to-"

"OKAY! You don't have to repeat that cheesy line again." Hermione inhaled sharply and said in a monotone like tumble that didn't quite match her walk, "I'm a model. You know what I mean. And I do my little turn on the catwalk-"

"Are you singing or talking? And you're not moving with your words!" said Parvati in warning. "I could always demonstrate-"

"Yeah, on the catwalk!" said Hermione a little more enthusiastically, "On the catwalk yeah…" Then biting her lip she gave a roll of her hips, "I shake my little tush on the catwalk!"

"That's the spirit!" Parvati said in cheer.

"Okay, I'm done." Hermione huffed, and then crossed her arms over her chest again as she sat down on Pansy's bed.

"Admit it, you were enjoying it."

"Hardly." Hermione sniffed.

"I think she's ready," Parvati whispered.

"Oh, Heavenly Hufflepuff, I honestly hope so… " then as an afterthought, Lavender added, "She's as ready as she'll ever be."

A/N: woohooooooo yay another chapter done! And Drakie-poo will make his entrance next chapter! Thanks for remaining so "loyal" to the story by reading it… if you're an anonymous reviewer, please remember to leave your e-mail so I know how to contact you if need be. I love you all! Constructive criticism is a must!


	5. Expensive Silk

A/N: Hello, hellooooo… yeah, I haven't updated in forever… so sorry if you catch any inconsistencies. I also had two versions of this story… and decided I would stick with the riskier, more elongated version. Yes, DRACO FINALLY MAKES HIS APPEARANCE in this chapter, just as promised. I really enjoyed writing this chapter even though I went over my deadline of when I planned to finish it due to a writer's block… I had handwritten the end as well as middle parts of this chapter so I got a writer's block trying to connect some spots. Hopefully it'll still flow. Well, I love you all, please read and review! As usual, thanks to my Beta (Glenyce) and Contraveritas… whom both beta and fanfic archive had inspired me to write this chappie!

One day and five chocolate bars later, Hermione found herself locking her office with spell reinforcements and sending final goodbyes off to close Auror-mates. She left a "Get well soon" card for the two injured house elves from her "incident" with her hair, and gave an especially long hug to Neville. She was not looking forward to the trip at all, and it didn't help that all of the females in the Auror quarters (and albeit probably the whole Ministry if they knew her op) looked at her with envy as she rolled her cart with suitcases down the hall, Lavender included.

"Don't worry, they're just jealous you're getting paid to sleep with one of the sexiest wizards alive."

"Drop it, Lavender!"

"I'd do it for free, but-"

"Then _you_ could do the mission." Hermione rolled her eyes as she made a turn into the upper corridors of the Magical Law Enforcement level, Lavender's _klick-klack_ of her heels following closely behind.

"I'd rather _you_ do it, 'Mione. _I_, along with everyone else who knows about the mission, are placing bets on how long it'll take until you bag him. Besides, Harry and I are thinking that 'Lyn' is a beautiful name for the baby…"

"You've GOT to be kidding me."

"No! But on another matter, Ron's told me you're a minx in the bed."

Hermione nearly crashed her cart into an upcoming wall.

"Where in the bloody hell did he get that from?"

"Confidential, 'Mione," Lavender said with a smile, and she lead her away from the wall she almost crashed against. "And even if you weren't a wild dominatrix," Hermione spat her coffee out in a messy rush as Lavender continued, "Draco is a sex _fiend_. I was watching a video that Harry uploaded from the hotel's Internet for me and Pansy to view."

"Harry downloaded porn?" her coffee mug careened onto the flood after the coffee Hermione had originally coughed out.

"No, he _uploaded_ it," Lavender performed a _scourgify_ on the ruined coffee as she went on, "I remember because Pansy and I had a wild time making puns on how we'd 'up-load' Draco any day-"

"Thanks for cleaning," started Hermione, but when Lavender's words registered in her mind, her gratitude was short-lived, "There's wizard porn on the net?"

"I don't know how it works, Hermione! Basically, Pansy and I watched the lot yesterday. We were on the phone, and Harry owled me a disc with Draco's skills to put on my laptop… and we made comments on, hm," Lavender's cheeks pinkened noticeably, "how _acrobatic_, Draco is."

"He can't be that good!" For God's sake he was making _Lavender_, who Hermione was sure tried every trick in the book next to Pansy, blush just thinking about it.

"Yes. The girls were staring at you today because they realized what you get to experience. I showed them the video."

Hermione face flushed. "Shut up."

Lavender smiled genuinely and whispered, "I put a video camera in the shoe suitcase."

"I'm not videoing anything."

Lavender just laughed, and after a few turns they entered an elevator at the end of the hall. "Okay well, just make sure you have sex in at least two months. I'd die if the Creevey brothers win another bet."

"They're in it too?" Hermione yelled.

"Stop acting so surprised about everything!" Lavender said in exasperation, "Anyway the Creeveys wanted to make sure that you have everything."

The doors closed, and only the flapping of the flying notes above them was heard as they descended.

"If they mean wand and my tour guide-"

"No, they meant _necessities_." Lavender handed Hermione a ring- it was silver with gold plating its edges. She looked pointedly at Hermione, and Hermione pocketed the accessory in the inner pocket near her wand without question.

"How long do I have?"

"About 12 hours before self-destruct."

Hermione nodded as they stopped and the elevator doors opened to the main Floo Network of the Ministry, many fireplaces spitting out clients and workers left and right. Some were bustling and in a hurry, others chatting, and some dusting themselves off. It was busy as usual. Hermione and Lavender walked to the front of a particular dusty fireplace which seemed to have not been in use for ages, and even the warning signs looked faded and old with the words "Caution: unstable transport, use only under Ministry supervision" and a sign next to that saying: "Out of Order" complete with a skull and crossbones. They ignored these signs and walked into the fireplace, paying no heed to the wall they walked headlong into… or more like _through_.

The wall of the old fireplace turned out to be a magicked eye trick much like the one on Platform 9¾… except the room this wall led to was extremely discreet. The room was about as large as the one both Hermione and Lavender just left, but in lieu of fireplaces, sucking vortexes of colorful warp holes populated the walls on either side, seemingly reminisce to Portkey transport except more forbidding. There were only two fireplaces in the room, which they started to approach slowly.

"You know, I don't recall the timewarps having no destination," said Lavender mildly, drawing attention to the blank placards above each twisting abyss.

"This would be my third time in here, and as far as I'm concerned, I only know what lies behind one timewarp." Hermione gestured to a purple vibrating nether to her left. "But supposedly, these all change destination in a constant for 'security measures.'" Hermione smiled and lowered her voice even though no one was around to hear them, "Although frankly, I just don't think the Ministry knows how to control these things."

"The Ministry doesn't know bloody shit. Why do you think they dedicated a department to it?" Lavender said with a smirk.

Hermione could barely stifle a giggle to Lavender's reference to the Department of Mysteries… this room being the only one Aurors officially used to navigate from that department.

They stopped in front of a very large fireplace that would force one to wonder: what exactly did the Ministry transport here?

Lavender smiled warily and said with a sigh, "Of all fireplaces I've entered and exited, this one by _far_ is the most nerve-wracking one. Remember the ring," she added as an afterthought.

"Honestly, I can't say I'm looking forward to this 'joy-ride' either," she pulled out a seemingly empty pouch from her pocket, and emptied it's contents onto her palm- two singular specks of green glowing dust landed on her hand. Hermione turned to Lavender, "Send Harry my regards… and Pansy too I suppose. You're flying back the Muggle way, right?"

"Yes, yes, my flight's in about two hours and I'm yet to check-in. Hurry, don't want the green floo chewing off your arm!" said Lavender jokingly, although both knew that joke wasn't far from the truth. Hermione gave Lavender a rushed hug and goodbye with a kiss on each cheek, before carting herself and suitcases under the ornate fireplace, and then almost as instantly as she stepped foot on its dust floor, she was engulfed in green flame.

"_Bon voyage_… and good luck," whispered Lavender sincerely to the empty fireplace.

Hermione always rushed into wizard transport and used them as quickly as possible because she realized only last year that no matter how long she's been part of the wizarding world, there would be no chance she would get used to their transportation methods. Everyone got used to it, except Hermione, who still preferred Muggle ways to get places if possible. She got used to the idea that if she just surprised herself by not giving her mind time to register that she'd go through another uncomfortable trip into fireplaces, Portkeys, Knight Buses, and Apparation- she could handle the swirly feeling all over her body. But this fireplace was no ordinary fireplace. As if to make up for not being strictly interconnected with every other fireplace, and could drop off in almost any destination, this one HURT. And not just throbbing hurt, it was more like the fireplace was pulling you inside out from the naval. And more, the transport wasn't five seconds like the rest- this one was a full blown minute. One wouldn't think that a minute was long, but if they were in a place where excruciating pain grated into the body relentlessly like a Cruciatus being cast over and over, it would feel like eternity.

She had almost forgot why all Aurors avoided missions that required transport through the "Ornate" as they all called the huge fireplace, and as she was bashed side to side and her thoughts sped in reverse with pulsating nausea, she regretted wanting to be reminded.

She opened her eyes to a whirlwind of speeding color, flashing by her so fast it was more blur, her hair whipping about her face in a torrent of wind. Hermione looked up, and saw she was speeding to her destination, still a ways off. The Ornate always made you feel like you entered some weird psychedelic dream, all her suitcases were still neatly in their cart, but Hermione was thrashed against unseen forces, as if she was squeezed through that thick tube associated with Apparating, and then forced rudely out. Every sense of her body was heightened, her touch made every miniscule bump against her cart seem like a stab against her hip, her eyes caught every flailing color as it passed her by, her mouth dry and bitter tasting, the scent of suffocation spiraling around her, and in her ears, she was acutely aware there was someone screaming faintly a ways away.

"Would you shut up?" rasped an old lady, a cloak tightly about her shoulders, her expression grim and walking stick held high as if to hit Hermione if she wouldn't take heed of her advice.

With a start Hermione opened her eyes that she didn't realize were closed, and noticed she was in the middle of dingy London, in the backdrop of the oldest and least sanitary subway she'd ever seen. Hermione was kneeling with her hands over her ears, her voice dying in her throat when she realized _she_ was the one she heard screaming earlier in the fireplace transport. She got up, a bit shaky, but all the pain she originally felt was gone, her suitcases still in their neat pile, but this time without the cart.

"S-sorry," whispered Hermione, as she slowly started to rearrange herself.

"Good riddance, and they say I'm insane," muttered the old woman, and she turned back to reading the old peeling yellowed pages of her book, following words with a gnarled and grimy finger.

There were barely any other people in the station, save for the old lady and herself, but everyone else looked uniquely like they were quite used to being looked down on, and couldn't care less. They all seemed to be in need of a bath, and gave Hermione the impression that they've been through a lot more than anyone else in the high middle-class society she was brought up in would care to notice. She looked very out of place with her cleanly pressed robes, and was glad she had them on over her outfit that Parvati and Lavender picked out earlier. No one seemed to care for her presence though.

Just then a grating sound of a train squealing on old rusted train tracks made itself known, and within a few moments a subway that looked to have been in use since subways were first invented made it's tired stop in front of them- graffiti and fading made the words _ard's Express_ hard to read on the side of the subway that looked to have been long past since it's glory days. The old woman got up with much effort, and a few others got up as well, with a hastened addition to their step, leaving the station even emptier than before.

A handsome man with a cracking leather jacket and jeans with more than one hole in it, looked out at Hermione from one of the subway's entrances as he held onto a pole used to steady passengers,

"'Ey, yer not comin' in?"

"I'm waiting for another train," Hermione replied easily.

He grinned at her, and swung out effortlessly, before striding over to her and whispering, "'Tis the only train comin', Love," he pushed her gently into the subway before she could protest, and he followed in after her, the doors sliding to a close in a silent hiss that seemed to be too advanced for it.

"My suitcases-" she said in a rush, realizing they were still out in the station.

"Are already aboard, Sweetheart. Now why don't you sit down and make yerself comfy, eh?" His accent was weird- it certainly wasn't from any British descent she was familiar with, although the twang sounded similar just harsher.

"What… but…" she started again, then realized the subway started moving.

"Don't worry. Just sit, and enjoy…" he laughed mildly, "It doesn't take a serviceman like me to know yer new to the _Wizard's Express_."

"W-Wizard's Express?"

"Indeed. Din't you read the name outside?"

"Yes… it said Ard's Express…." Then with a start she grasped that the words were faded, so "Wiz" must've been scraped off from her vision at the time.

He nodded with a knowing smile as if he knew what she was thinking, and gestured her to sit again, and this time Hermione, dumbfounded, walked down the aisle. She sat on the cleanest seat she could find, which, to her surprise, was extremely comfortable even against the grimy look it sported. Hermione noticed that this whole train must've been bewitched because as soon as the doors closed, the whole inside of the train started transforming to a very beautiful interior, with red velvet seats and 16th century décor. Everyone around her seemed to be oblivious to the change- apparently she was the only one aboard who didn't ride _Wizard's Express_ often. The old woman who scowled at her earlier was sitting two seats in front of her, and Hermione could just make out the moving photographs in the book she was reading, and felt a wave of relief wash through her that she was in the company of people familiar with magic. With a start, she remembered Ginny had given her a post card from Hagrid a while back, and she hadn't even read it. She fished into her cloak, and pulled out a postcard with bent edges, and turned it over:

_Helo Hermione! I'm in Hawaii right now, and havig a great time. Send everyone my regards and I'll come and vist you all son._

She smiled. Trust Hagrid to proofread his letters...

Hermione started to place the postcard back into a cloak pocket, when her hand hit something cold and metallic. The ring. She looked up to call the attendant, and to her surprise, the man that had ushered her in just moments before, now chauffeured in a red vest that matched the seats with black slacks. He came briskly, and within two short strides he was by her side with a smile.

"Yes'm?"

"Oh, I was wondering where the err… restroom was?"

"Four rows behind you, the cabin to your left," he dictated, using his arms to gesture directions.

"All right."

"Anything else?"

"Oh… when is the next stop?"

He smiled briefly and replied, "Approximately one hour, Miss. We'll be passing through the English Channel as of late."

"Thank you, sir."

The man nodded, and then he turned on his heel and stalked to the opposite direction. Hermione got up swiftly, counted four rows and turned left before pushing herself into the small room, which hadn't failed to be as lavish as the rest of the subway. She tried the bathroom door with her foot to make sure it stayed closed before doing a _silencio_ around the room- assuring that she was in as private a place she should be before slipping on the ring. Instantly, the ring started to vibrate, and an ominous voice filled the bathroom,

_Good day, Agent Granger. I trust you found the _Wizard's Express _without much effort? Ah well- enough small talk. You are to get off at the Le Havre station, which, would be the first stop. Enclosed in your left breast pocket Agent Brown has placed a Portkey that will transport you directly to Paris, careful not to touch it until you are in the Le Havre station or disastrous effects will occur… this Portkey is one-use only and will activate as soon as it touches your hands. From Paris, a woman by the name of Lillian Delion will escort you to a Muggle method of transport which I've heard is something you don't mind- a car. You'll be traveling to Orléans, where you'll be promptly blindfolded by your escort. Do not panic, this is customary precaution so that the whereabouts of Beauxbatons' secondary entrance remains secret, and when the blindfold is removed, you'll be in front of a fireplace and offered a pinch of floo- just enough to get you to Beauxbatons' secret entrance. Madame Delion will give you the words to deliver you safely from this fireplace to the academy grounds. You'll be pleased to know your bags will be waiting for you in your room. Please be aware that upon your arrival, if all goes as planned, you will have approximately two hours before the Opening Ceremonies of your tour at the Beauxbaton's Dining Chamber. Everything else you need to know will be in your tour guide._À votre santé!

The voice faded, along with the ring from her finger. Hermione grinned, it never stopped amazing her how very inventive her department was one delivering top secret information. She slid out from the restroom after removing the spell she cast on it, and resumed sitting on her seat, a little tired from the past few days. Within a few seconds, she was fast asleep.

It was night by the time Hermione landed on Beauxbatons grounds. The trip had been uneventful, and thankfully, everything went smoothly. Hermione dusted off her robes and pulled her cloak tighter around herself as the door to the homely cabin that housed the fireplace opened, welcoming a dusty wind.

"You must be Miz Granger," said the small woman in the doorway.

"I could go by that name- yes," she replied.

The small woman scarcely reached to Hermione's chin and that said a lot considering Hermione was 5'3. She wore rich blue robes that spoke volumes about her lineage and school she was representing. Her thick French accent cut briskly through the cold air.

"I'm ze caretaker of ze Beauxbatons Academy. I trust you found zeece place wih-zout much trouble, yes?" She didn't wait for Hermione's retort, "Let's get you to ze palace, _oui_?" And she turned around and made her way to a carriage of ancient but beautiful wood- engravings of the Beauxbatons crest embedded themselves on the regal doors. There was a single white horse that was to draw the carriage to Beauxbatons- the color of the horse was so pure it seemed to glow within contrast against the almost-evening skyline. Hermione was careful to note that they were near a large body of water, possibly the Atlantic Ocean or the Mediterranean Sea, and that off in the distance she could barely make out the small outlines of a city or a very large building.

"Miz Granger," said the French woman crisply, "If you may" - she was gesturing for her to sit in the carriage - "we must get you settled in your room so you may get..uh… what is ze word… dressed. You are coming to ze Opening Ceremonies, are you not? We would appreciate everyone'z attendance."

"Oh, right," Hermione walked into the carriage before the woman could dictate anything else, "France is very beautiful," she added, hoping to lighten the caretaker's mood.

"Feh, you are from England, everything iz beautiful compared to ze dirt of ze U.K."

Hermione scowled as the woman jumped in, and the door shut securely after her. Seeing there was plenty of room, Hermione got up and walked to the other side of the carriage- as far as she could get from the woman without being considered rude. As soon as she was seated, the carriage lurched forward, and she felt the carriage seem to soar up into the sky. Elated by the feeling of flight, she poked her head out of the window, to see if the horse had grown wings. To her surprise, the horse seemed to just be running at a very fast pace on an unseen path, even though they were clearly above land… or… water. Hermione looked down with amazement at how high they were, and then glanced back at the… horse? The creature pulling the carriage looked like it was starting to grow gills and a long snout, its body forming into something upright and ridged. A terse voice forced her out of her reverie.

"Miz, I advize you to keep your head indoorz at zeece time. Or ze effects will be… rather… mind-blowing."

Not liking the tone in her voice, she pulled her head half-heartedly back into the carriage right before the carriage took a sudden dive.

"AH!" Hermione screamed in surprise, and before she knew it, there was a loud splash, and the carriage had submerged itself into the water.

Three hours later, Hermione was seated comfortably on what looked to be an ice sculpture of a merman. It was huge and impressive, having the pose of a mercreature about to strike his spear into the next table over, and Hermione sat cross-legged on its tail that shaped itself into a seat. Beauxbatons really knew how to impress- the current theme of the Dining Chamber (which, Hermione noted, was equivalent to Hogwarts' Great Hall) seemed to be a tribute to all mythic underwater creatures. That suited it.

Hermione was very surprised to find Beauxbatons was located deep under the sea. The horse that previously had drawn the carriage had turned into what the caretaker assured her was a seahorse. The window that she had stuck her head out of magically locked the water out, even though Hermione found she was able to skim the fast flowing water with her fingertips if she pleased. Her room was the highest tower, and it was amazing looking out into the view of the crystal clear sea. There was some kind of bubble force field around the palace, keeping all water out at a certain perimeter, so there was plenty of room for the students to practice flying lessons while not being in contact with aerospace. Gardens of plants she never imagined grew from the well fertilized grounds, and she was sure if Neville, who had specialized in Herbology, was here he'd be crying in joy.

The Dining Chamber was a tad smaller than the Hogwart's Great Hall, but that didn't make it any less intimidating. Grand ice sculptures, that the staff of Beauxbatons were pleased to point out were created by their students, sparked with the light reflections from the majestic chandeliers from the high castle ceiling. Hogwarts' homey feel was far away, this place was everything orderly, beautiful, and instead of magicked ceilings, it was replaced with paintings that looked Michaelangelo-inspired.

Everyone was dressed in formal- some wearing suits, and evening gowns, others preferring heavily embroided dress robes. Hermione inwardly thought this must've been how the grand balls looked in the 16th century, where princes courted their lady. It was then, that among the small groups in the moderately crowded room, next to the far right wall, near a man of slight posture who was carrying a platter of hor'devours… and the wine fountain glistening prettily next to him-

Draco Malfoy.

He held a wine glass leisurely between his left index and middle finger, leaning casually on the wall, and when it comes to casual, Malfoys had that natural grace that could effortlessly place them centerfold on a "Top 50's sexiest" had a photographer been watching. He donned a black suit done uniquely with silver lining, so it brought out the silver dress robe look but at the same time the suit framed his figure. Hermione knew instantly it had been custom made, maybe for just this night. The dwarfish man near Malfoy (Draco, Hermione inwardly corrected herself), had approached him gingerly and offered whatever was on the platter he held, and Draco, with smooth calmness gave a small cock of his head, clearly indicating a negative response. The dismissed Beauxbaton servant bowed deeply before moving on.

Only Draco could pull off making a rejection graceful. He was looking at a nearby sculpture with a placid expression, a woman in her early thirties enthusiastically describing the sculpture to him, and although it didn't seem like it, Hermione knew he could care less.

His gaze shifted from the sculpture and danced among the various groups before settling on Hermione for the first time. Eyes locked- chocolate brown meeting silver gray. They stood that way for some time, drinking one another in and renewing as well as reassessing old, sour times in their heads. Hermione felt hot in her body fitting dress Parvati suggested she wear for formals: it suddenly felt too short (only at midthigh) under his piercing gaze, the neckline felt too low with Lavender's impeccable taste for plunging rounded necklines so the tops of her breasts were bare for all to see. Hermione wished for dress robes, and maybe some flats, stilettos were starting to put a stress on her toes and hurt her ankles even through all the training she went through to walk in them.

_It's just you and me_, something whispered in her head.

"I believe we have met before," said Draco in his low, sultry voice. Hermione hadn't even notice his walk over to her. Not good. Not good at all.

Hermione looked up at him as if noticing him for the first time even though both knew this was not the case. He looked back down at her and once more they had a testimony of silence, searching without touching, and the swing of nostalgia running between them. It was almost like he was awaiting her reply.

'You're supposed to approach him first, not the other way around. This is all wrong.'

A few seconds passed.

'Answer him. Say something. Anything!'

A minute. Just starring.

'Come on!'

For the first time, Hermione was speechless, and it was way too late to improvise her rehearsed conversation she practiced earlier in her room as she got dressed. Draco's lips tightened into a grim line that looked to be a smile, it was hard to tell when you couldn't think.

"Wine?" asked Draco languidly as if nothing was awkward at all and they were old comrades just catching up on things.

Hermione nodded dumbly.

He gestured a servant over with his free right forefinger and poured her a glass of wine himself before dismissing him.

Hermione just watched.

After she nearly downed the whole glass in a very unlady-like manner she managed a choked, "Throat was dry," as if it would compensate for her previous silence. Draco merely nodded.

Hermione licked her lips and took a deep breath and perhaps start a conversation when Draco interrupted her,

"What are you doing now?"

"Um, drinking wine, I mean I _was_-"

"I meant, in life."

Of course. Draco always was an intimidating figure, but it never dawned on Hermione until now because she never wanted to be his friend before. Hermione licked her lips again. Very bad habit she was developing.

Hermione was about to say, "A professor at Hogwarts" like she had planned, but the words got stuck in her throat. She was going to say she's working overseas and getting her masters in the states, but that didn't sound right. So she settled for a more cautious approach,

"I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"Are you working?" he asked.

"Should I be?"

Draco wrinkled his eyebrows delicately at the center of his forehead,

"You don't have kids," he said not as a question, but more as a statement.

"Neither do you," Hermione replied. 'Too quick,' she chided herself, 'Slow down.'

He raised his wine glass to hide his smirk as he sipped on its rim. Hermione amused him and she wasn't so sure that was good thing. Draco flicked a stray hair that fallen across his forehead out of his eyes expertly, before giving her another once over and letting another moment pass. In that moment, perspiration had gathered somewhere on Hermione's back because she felt a drop of sweat make its way down her spine, and she rolled her shoulder back once to maintain a grip on herself.

"Have you been reading the _Daily Prophet_?" asked Draco curtly.

"Fudge got married."

"I mean the _World News_. The cover is hardly ever considered important, nowadays." Draco gave another small shake of his head to scatter the freefalling bands. Just then a pretty woman, scarcely the age of twenty walked over to them and addressed Draco,

"Ah, Draco Darling!"

"Viera, my secretary," said Draco, introducing the young woman as if she had never spoken.

"A pleasure," Hermione replied, firmly shaking Viera's hand. Viera didn't have much of a grip.

Viera turned back to Draco again,

"You have a meeting at three. I'm sorry I couldn't get a hold of you sooner and hope it isn't an inconvenience- How's the deal coming, Draco?"

Draco gave a small sideways glance at Hermione before replying to Viera,

"I have an appointment at three, cancel the meeting." Then he looked back at Hermione and said, "The Ministry's falling apart, they've already lost control of Azkaban." Draco was finally cutting to the chase.

Hermione blinked and said with a grim smile, "I never knew you as one to small talk."

Draco gave a slight bow, barely notable had you been standing five feet away.

"The Ministry's hiring more than ever, I heard," perked Viera. "Employment is way up this y-"

"Viera, get this young woman some more wine, please."

Draco gracefully lifted the glass out of Hermione's hand.

"Okay."

Draco watched her leave and then his attention focused back on Hermione.

"What do you need, Draco?" asked Hermione, letting some of her impatience slip into her words.

Draco hardly noticed the change in which she addressed him- either that or he paid no heed to it. He leaned in closer to her ear, so close she could smell his exquisite cologne reverberating off of him, coupled with the wine on his breath. He always smelt expensive.

"I could care less about what your profession is, but I know you are connected to the Ministry whether you know it or not. You're a vital piece of information for them, if you hadn't known that already, but like all data, when it becomes outdated, it is discarded."

Hermione was careful to keep her expression as guarded as possible, unsure of what he was trying to tell her, "What are you suggesting?"

She felt Draco breathe in deeply in his slow, no rushing way before continuing,

"I'm suggesting that you are a key. A code. To what, I'm not sure, but whatever it is, I'm to stop you from giving that code out. I could kill," he lowered his voice further, his words now mere vibrations barely coherent, "you if I liked, but blood is such a mess to clean and fortunately for you, I'm not fond of cleaning."

"So what are you doing to do?"

"I have many thoughts, but I think you'd prefer keeping this conversation and that 'code' a little secret. You're intelligent, do the math. Wherever you go, I _will_ find you."

"I can hardly wait."

He stepped back and gave a slight inclination of his head in his calm composure and took out a hand, "Ms. Granger."

Hermione shook his hand firmly, "Mr. Malfoy."

They locked eyes, and Malfoy gave a graceful sneer, "Pleasure seeing you again."

It was the first time, Hermione realized, she touched Malfoy without flinching. His skin felt like silk. Expensive silk.

A/N: Hey! Thanks for reading this far. Unfortunately… and my beta doesn't know this either (I wrote this author's note after I sent her a copy of Chapter 5: _Expensive Silk_ to beta), I'm no longer continuing "A Call." That's right… I'm retiring the story. I'm sorry, it's just that the chapters are coming in so slow, and I barely have time to continue it anymore unless you guys feel like waiting for my school breaks for me to work on it. Well, either way, please put feedback on this chapter. I really enjoyed writing this story, and I appreciate the love and support! I'm going to try one-shots more, so look out for those! Dramione for life. Keep reading!

-yoshi09


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